The Sonic Seven
by Bryon Nightshade
Summary: Adaptation of "The Seven Samurai". Sonic and six others make a hopeless stand to protect starving peasants from bandits. Each warrior hopes to gain something by doing so. Each will pay a price. Complete, now with epilogue.
1. The Peasants' Plight

_Author's note: this story is an adaptation of "The Seven Samurai", by Kurosawa Akira. In the games, Sonic, et al are shown as being much shorter than normal people. For the purposes of this story, assume that they're of average height. The swordplay would be strange otherwise._

* * *

><p>PROLOGUE<p>

* * *

><p>The little girl trembled in fear.<p>

Her mother had brought her along with this caravan. Even the little girl knew that "caravan" was too much word for a procession like this. A couple of carts, a handful of people, with one of them called a "guard" in exchange for a discounted fare, that was what passed for a caravan these days. It was how the scum of the planet groped from place to place.

The little girl had been scared of it at first. It was new and strange, and many of the new and strange things she'd seen in her short life had been bad. Scared though she might have been, she hadn't known true fear until the four highwaymen attacked.

The guard never stood a chance. His rusty short sword and self-taught technique were hopelessly inadequate. The highwaymen killed him mercilessly, right in front of the little girl, searing images into her mind that stayed even when she closed her eyes.

Her mother had hugged the little girl tightly to her bosom, then, and the little girl had squeezed her in return. The little girl heard people screaming, and some of the screams stopped suddenly. She tried her best not to understand what that meant. But though she could close her eyes, she couldn't close her ears, and she knew what was happening.

Then they grabbed her mother and tugged her along. The little girl followed closely. Soon they were lined up, along with a couple other survivors, beside one of the carts.

"They probably don't have more than a silver half-coin amongst the whole lot, boss."

"Yeah, but some of them are worth more than a silver just as they are. We'll pick the best and kill the rest."

"Hey, that rhymed! You sure are clever, boss."

"Shut up and get a good look at them."

The highwayman started with the little girl. She turned and buried her face in her mother's dress. The highwayman's rough, calloused hand tore her away. "Mommyyyy!" she screamed. Her mother couldn't move, though. The highwayman's other hand held a sword that was still dripping red.

"Well, aren't you the cutest thing?" the highwayman said with a leer. His breath smelled of garlic and tobacco. The little girl's whole body tensed, as if receiving an electrical shock. Survival instinct told her to do nothing that might antagonize this monster. "I think we got a winner here, boss!"

"Women and children always fetch the highest prices," was the thoughtful-sounding reply.

"Looks like the mother got rode hard and put up wet," said the highwayman. He made a lewd gesture with his hips. "Still, I suppose it'll be easier if we bring her mother along with her."

"You've got it backwards, idiot. It'll be easier if it's just the kid. Otherwise they'll demand all sorts of special treatment." The boss' pitiless gaze fell upon the mother. "We'll keep the kid. Kill the mother."

"Sure thing..." "No!" "Mommyyyy!" "Hey, is this the road to Akemo?"

Four voices chorused at once. It was the last that drew everyone's attention.

It belonged to a figure that was walking up the road from where the caravan had come. He was pulling on white gloves. He wore blackened leathers and red shoes. His skin- no, _fur_, the little girl realized with a shock- was bright blue. His face had an easy-going, self-assured smile. His eyes were green and unblinking.

"What if it is?" demanded the boss highwayman. "Scram, this is none of your business."

The blue figure chuckled. "Yeah... I thought we might disagree about that."

"You asked for it. Kill him!"

It wasn't until after the figure had drawn his sword that any of them even realized he was carrying one.

For that matter, it wasn't until after the sword had completed its swing that the first highwayman knew the swing had begun. And he only knew that the swing was complete because the sword had to exit his body to finish its motion.

The second highwayman shoved the little girl aside to let him grasp his sword with both hands. It made no difference. Twenty paces separated the first and second highwaymen. The blue figure covered the distance in the time it takes to blink three times. The highwayman's defense never materialized. The blue figure's sword slid easily in, just as easily back out. The highwayman was dead before he hit the ground.

The little girl couldn't take her eyes off of the dead highwayman. She stared at him even as the blue figure cut down the boss highwayman and scared off the fourth, who fled, dropping his weapon and stinking of urine.

The little girl had seen more death than a person of her age could be expected to stand. This, though, was the very first one that didn't bother her. This man was going to kill her mother, and now he was dead. All the other times she'd seen someone killed, it had been senseless, pointless, evil. This time she couldn't help but think that the blue figure was right.

"That's a wrap," the blue figure said to himself, wiping his sword off. "You guys might want to hustle to Akemo. It's one hill and a bend away. If you hurry you can get there tonight. Oh..." he reached down to the boss highwayman and used his sword to cut a small bag away from the boss' belt. It jingled gently. He tossed it towards the feet of the little girl. "Take this and split it amongst yourselves. You'll need it."

He began to walk away, exiting their lives as suddenly and inexplicably as he'd entered them. "Wait!" called the little girl.

The blue figure paused for a moment and looked over its shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Who are you?"

The figure chuckled as if she'd just told an amusing joke. "I've been called a lot of things. I've been called a miserable rodent, a hated hedgehog, and plenty of nastier things besides. And I've had people call me hero, savior, and legend. Some guys tried to make me a peer. But you don't care about any of that." He grinned at her. "Between you and me, I don't either. A name's just something people call you. With me, what you see is what you get. You already know who I am.

"But if you need a name, I suppose you can call me what my friends call me."

"What's that?"

"They call me..."

* * *

><p>ACT ONE: GATHERING<p>

* * *

><p>Growing rice on a large scale is back-breaking work when you have only the most basic tools. The only way to make it work is to throw people at the problem. That's what the village did. It threw almost its whole population into the rice paddies. They grew enough to feed the village, most years, and not much more.<p>

Not that the whole population of the village was anything remarkable. It was tiny, a speck on the map, if anyone was making maps those days. No one was. Not long before there had been maps, maps that showed the whole world, maps that updated themselves daily or even hourly. But those maps were gone, and most people were more concerned with survival than with making new ones.

The farmers in the village didn't need maps. They knew where the next village on was (barely bigger than theirs) and they knew the vague direction where the largest town in the area was. That was it for geography. It didn't concern you a whole lot when you rarely walked further than the last rice field.

The main concern was always rice. That's what was concerning the farmers when the bandits showed up. By the time the farmers noticed the bandits coming, they were already past them and moving into the village itself.

Ten of them, armed with all manner of swords, spears, and bows. They rode on horses and wore armor. Those possessions represented so much wealth the peasants could barely fathom it.

And they had a robot.

It was what they called a "Silver Man", a robot design once common world-wide. It was humanoid, to be sure, and about human-sized, but it hovered just above the ground instead of walking. Its original armament had long-since deteriorated. The bandits replaced it with a simple spear. With its strength, it was liable to shatter the spear as completely as anything it struck.

The bandits barged into the largest inhabited building in town. "We wanna speak to your elder!" the leader shouted.

The villagers gathered in the town square, at a safe and respectful distance from the bandits. Wherever the robot looked at any moment, the peasants hid. They didn't want to be in its line of vision if they could help it. The bandit leader was shouting at the village elder. It went on for only a few minutes, but to the villagers, every minute in the company of armed men was like an hour.

The idle bandits kept their weapons handy. They had developed a taste for intimidation and were very much in practice. From time to time one of them would give the peasants a withering stare, or take some practice strikes with a weapon, or growl. The peasants would shrink away, and the bandits would laugh. It never got old.

Finally the bandit leader emerged. "And get it right," he shouted back. "We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to this village. Not that anyone would miss it," he added to his comrades. "A little piss-hole like this? Ten of them could disappear and no one would ever know."

The bandits laughed as they mounted their horses. The crowd pulled back into the huts to make way, so that the bandits couldn't even pretend someone was near them. The bandits rode off, pausing only to spit in the direction of the villagers.

The town elder put everyone back into the fields to finish the day's work. It kept them from asking what had happened. That night, though, once the whole village had gathered, there was no such obstacle.

"They've raised their tribute demands by a third," he announced.

"No, sensei!" "They can't!" "But why?" The voices mixed together, one talking atop the other.

The elder—they called him "sensei" because he was a teacher once, though the school was long-since a crater—raised his hand. The people quieted. "Ichiro," he said, "if we pay that much, what will happen to the village?"

All eyes turned to the corner of the room. A small man—less built than his fellow villagers, and with skin less sun-darkened—was clicking beads on an abacus. Every click echoed; every click was a death threat.

He stopped and stared at the beads. Dread filled the heart of his fellows as he avoided speaking. But he couldn't not-answer forever. When they started to murmur, he announced, "We will survive the winter, but only by eating most of our seed crop. In the spring, we'll only be able to plant half the usual crop. By next winter we will all be dead."

Clamor reigned.

Subsistence farmers accept certain hardships. You accept that there will be a bad flood, or a drought, or something, and you squirrel away everything you possibly can. If nothing bad happens this year, it's just waiting to happen next year. Occasionally you have to dip into your seed crop, and then hope you can stretch until the following harvest. Hunger was always hanging overhead. It was just how life worked.

This was too much.

One of the men stormed into the middle of the room. Kenji was his name, and he had a reputation as a firebrand. Despite it, once someone else repeated his arguments with a cooler head, they usually were adopted.

"I can't stand this!" he shouted. "We're out there slaving away, day after day, just to get enough to feed our families. Then these… bandits… just take it? Take what we've sweated blood to make? Take food from the mouths of our babies, our parents? No! It's too much!"

"The bandits come every year," said a defeated voice.

"They always leave enough for us to get by."

"You heard Ichiro," said Kenji. "They won't leave enough this time. They mean it. They'll take everything. They'll bleed us dry!"

"You know they will!"

"You heard 'em, they'll destroy us and think nothing of it!"

"I won't take it anymore," said Kenji. "I've had enough. I kept my quiet before about the bandits ("Not very well!" shouted a heckler), but… no, I won't let our babies starve! Enough is enough!"

"Kenji, everyone agrees with you," said Koji. He often played the role of moderating Kenji's arguments. Originality may not have been his strong suit, but he had no enemies. "We all heard Ichiro. But so what? The bandits are a natural disaster, like an earthquake. You have to suffer it and move on."

"Bandits are NOT an earthquake," Kenji said darkly. "You can't fight an earthquake."

There was silence for only a moment. Then people understood what he meant.

"No!"

"Fight? You're mad!"

"They're bandits!"

"They'll kill us all!"

"We're dead anyway!" said Kenji, tears forming in his eyes. "We're every one of us dead if they have their way! At least… at least if we fight, then we'll die quickly, instead of starving… and maybe we can drag a couple of bandits to hell with us…"

Some of the villagers kept shouting warnings about the bandits and the terrible things they did. But others kept quiet, or murmured about how Kenji might be right.

"Kenji," said Koji, "how would we fight? We don't know how."

Kenji turned to the elder in desperation. "Sensei can teach us, can't you, sensei?"

There hadn't yet been a subject that sensei couldn't talk about, but there's a first time for everything. He shook his head. "I know nothing of fighting," he said. "I wasn't part of the wars."

"Then what'll we do?" said Koji. "If we try to fight, the bandits will kill us. If we do nothing, starvation will kill us."

Sensei lowered his head. "There may be a way after all."

"What?" said Kenji, speaking for the crowd.

"Hire warriors."

Murmurs. "You can hire warriors?" said Koji.

"Sure. The wars destroyed cities and technology, but there are still a lot of people out there who know how to fight. When the governments collapsed, a lot of soldiers were left without jobs. Why do you suppose there are so many bandits? But there are others, too. Mercenaries, bounty hunters, rough types of every description. They've spread everywhere as they look for work. If you want to learn how to fight, hire some warriors to teach you."

"Where can we find them?" asked Kenji. No warriors but the bandits had ever come through their village.

"Head to Akemo. It's a good-sized town. There are sure to be plenty of warriors there."

"But how do we hire them? We have no money."

"Then we won't offer them money, obviously. Offer them what we have—our gratitude, a warm, dry place to sleep, and three meals a day, all the rice they can eat."

Kenji saw some of the peasants, including Ichiro, muttering at this. "Idiots! If we kill the bandits we can keep the tribute! Warriors can't be more expensive than the bandits."

Others nodded. This was the only way, surely. It was the only option with even a prayer of survival.

"Who will go on this mission?" said sensei.

"I will," said Kenji, automatically.

Koji looked at Kenji and sighed. "I suppose I will, too."

Sensei nodded. "We need one more."

Seiji looked at his wife, at their newborn daughter. He was a large man; he could have held his daughter in one hand. His voice had never been anything but small, and sparingly used. He decided this was a time to use it. He walked before sensei. "I'll go," he said.

"No!" said Ichiro. "Seiji is our best farmer, he does the work of any two of us."

"Is there any farming he can do more important than this?" asked sensei. "If we don't send three, the mission can't succeed, and if the mission doesn't succeed, we die."

No one contested sensei.

"Pack tonight," said sensei. "Take as much rice as you can carry. You'll need it to feed yourselves and the warriors you find. Trade some of it for a place to stay."

They nodded in response. "How many warriors should we get?" said Kenji.

"As many as you can find," said sensei. "Realistically, if we can get five, we might have a chance. Just remember, you must return before the stalks of rice bend their heads. Any later and there won't be time to prepare the village before the bandits return."

Another round of nods.

"This is our only chance to live through this," said sensei. "We're all counting on you. I wish you all the luck that's left in this rotten old world."

So it began…

* * *

><p>Their world was much like ours. Up until a brief time before this story, it had enjoyed great prosperity, technological achievement, and widespread peace.<p>

Then came the Eggman Wars, where a madman used robot soldiers and technomancy in a bid for conquest. He failed, and died in the attempt, but he so crippled the world's economies and industries that repairing the damage was impossible. One government after another fell, while others waged war on each other to try and stay afloat. World trade shut down. Infrastructure failed. New battles sprung up worldwide, each one adding to the devastation. Precious technology was lost, either destroyed in endless conflict or picked apart by scavengers. The world entered a new dark age.

A bare 15 years cost the planet 500 years of technological progress. The world's population fragmented, loyal only to their neighbors, and loosely at that. In their death throes, national governments fielded huge armies. The survivors of those armies outlived their nations. Unemployed, possessed of no skills except fighting, they dispersed into the countryside. Some turned to banditry. Others searched for work.

A few of them even found some…

* * *

><p>Once, calling Akemo a city would have been stretching the term to breaking. In this era, though, it certainly qualified. And to the naïve eyes of Kenji, Koji, and Seiji, it was larger than life.<p>

There were so many people! They stood on the market corner for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes (they had no way of telling time) and never saw the same face twice. Not just human faces, either. The last years before the wars, and the wars themselves, had produced a variety of humanoid creatures of varying colors and species. The peasants had only seen one or two such creatures previously; here, while not common, they were far from rare. It was just one more thing that helped send the peasants into complete sensory overload.

Everywhere there were horses and people and animals and carts and sights and sounds and smells and yes warriors and _none of them looked like they would fight bandits for three meals a day_.

They spent a while standing there, completely overwhelmed, attracting the occasional curious stare from passers-by. Eventually Seiji came to his senses. "We need to get money," he said. "And eat."

They knew he was right. They suspected the money-changer cheated them, and were correct—he'd put a different set of weights on his scales when he saw them approach—but they were without recourse. They took the money and got the smallest room in the cheapest inn they could find. The innkeeper, expecting to haggle over the rate, set his initial price outrageously high, but this maneuver was beyond the peasants, and afterwards the innkeeper was too embarrassed to lower the price.

It was good to have a place to hide from the cacophony outside. Still, all they had to do was close their eyes to see their friends and families toiling in the fields while they were here in the city. They just had to idle their minds to imagine what would happen if the bandits got wind of their intentions.

Before long they were out on the streets again.

It had seemed so easy, talking about it: just go to the city and hire warriors. But that involved actually talking to the warriors. And that turned out to be a lot harder than you'd think.

As Koji pointed out, these were the sorts of men who hurt other men as a matter of course. How angry would they have to get to beat up a couple of peasants? Especially when they so rarely noticed peasants, as peasants and warriors so rarely had anything to talk about…

They'd arrived shortly after noon, and with one thing and another the time had fled. Seiji said, "We have to at least ask one warrior today."

They nodded in agreement. Finally Kenji saw one that didn't terrify him. He was of average stature, and carried a fancy-looking sword at his waist. His expression was benevolent. "Warrior, sir?" Kenji said, reaching out ahead of the man.

"Hm?" He stopped. "What is it?"

Kenji's brain abandoned him. "M-m-m-my village, sir, is… is…"

"Speak clearly, man, speak sense!"

Kenji yelped. "Sir, my village… b-b-bandits…"

"Bandits? Bandits you say? Oh, I know all about bandits."

"You do?" said Kenji, nearly fainting from relief.

"Oh, yes," he said, chuckling. "They robbed me on my way here. No one's safe, eh? That's why I carry this sword now."

Kenji's heart plummeted. "So you're not a warrior at all?" he said.

"No, but if you mistake me for one, they might too, ha ha!" The man barged on, laughing at his own cleverness.

The peasants went back to their room and ate pitifully small helpings of rice. They seasoned it with tears of frustration and hopelessness.

* * *

><p>The next day the peasants were determined to ask more warriors. They'd seen so many, after all. Surely some of them would be willing to help. Surely some of them were that desperate.<p>

They took station at a crossroads near the market. Egging each other on, they found the courage to ask a dozen warriors for their help. The results were not encouraging.

"Psh! Help some peasant scum-hole? You're not worth dying for."

"There are how many bandits? Sorry, I'm not into suicide."

"A payment in food? I have some pride left!"

"You presume to hire me? Get out of my sight!"

Those were the ones who deigned to answer. The others brushed the peasants away like they were flies.

When lunchtime came, Kenji had a brainstorm. "Let's cook some extra rice," he said. "Then we'll offer it to warriors to get them to talk to us. I bet more of the warriors would listen to us then. And who knows? Maybe a full belly will get them feeling sympathetic."

Koji shrugged without conviction, at a loss for better ideas. Seiji looked at their rice supplies. He'd taken it upon himself to be the distributor of their food. His rationing was harsh, but neither Kenji nor Koji dared contest the matter. "We have to be careful," he said, softly. "If we get as many warriors this afternoon as this morning, it'll cost us a whole day's stay here."

"If we get even one warrior because of it, it'll be worth it," said Kenji.

They agreed. That afternoon they tried it.

The very first warrior they flagged down stared at the bowl of rice the peasants offered. "Sure, I'll listen," he said, though his eyes never strayed. He joined them on the corner. They gave him the bowl.

"…so, that's it," finished Kenji. "You'll have rice like that until all the bandits are dead. What do you say?"

The warrior was picking the last grains of rice out of the bowl with his fingers. "That was good rice," he said.

"So will you come with us, then?" said Koji.

The warrior set the bowl on the ground and turned away. "That was gooood rice," he repeated.

"But—warrior, sir! What about our village?"

No reply.

Kenji and Koji stared after the warrior. Their hearts steadily sank to about navel level. Seiji picked up the bowl wistfully. "That much rice would have fed the three of us together," he murmured.

"We have to try again," said Kenji. His voice was that of a drowning man telling his comrades they must swim.

Had word spread? Or was their luck simply that bad? For the rest of the day only seven warriors came by their corner. Three of them ignored the peasants completely. Two of them ate their rice, then declined to help. One of them got so angry at being offered food that he drew his sword and threatened to cut off their heads unless they showed him proper respect. They dropped to the ground. Only Seiji realized the warrior was just trying to get their rice while they weren't looking. When he grabbed to get their bowl back, the warrior sent it sprawling and fled.

"Coward! Thief!" Kenji shouted at the man's back.

"Kenji, help us!" said Koji. He and Seiji were sifting through the dirt to retrieve as many grains of rice as they could save.

"No warrior will eat this now," said Kenji as he squatted to help them.

"I would," said Seiji.

"Is this bowl yours?"

Kenji looked up. A friendly, smiling face looked back. It was the sort of face on which a smile is always at home. The face belonged to a pink hedgehog with enormous green eyes. She was clad in a formal red-and-white robe with overlarge sleeves. As strange as this vision was, what truly made Kenji's heart leap was what he saw tucked into her waist sash.

A sword.

It looked a little different from the others he'd seen, but he was not discriminating at this point. "Th-thank you, madam warrior," he said. His heart was pounding so hard he wondered that she didn't hear it.

"Do you need help with your rice?" she asked.

"N-no, we have it," he answered.

She nodded and smiled. "Have a nice day, then."

"Wait!" he said as she turned. "We do need your help. Just not with the rice."

"What do you need?" she asked.

Kenji thought he might cry at this unexpected kindness. "Madam, you are the first warrior to come to us," he said.

"Helping others is a warrior's duty," she said. "But I'm still in training, you see."

"Good enough for us," he said. "We need warriors, you see, our village…"

She was already shaking her head. "No, sorry."

"What? I don't understand."

"I'm still a student," she said. She reached for her belt. What Kenji had thought was an unusual sword scabbard turned out to be a wooden sword. "I'm on a journey of my own, right now. I'm looking for a good teacher. I can't help you as I am."

Kenji's heart stopped. "But—but, madam warrior, we'll take you, we need your help!"

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry," she said, and walked away.

It was as if Kenji's emotions were being split by a prism. He'd felt elation, sympathy, relief, and joy in quick succession; now he quickly cycled through anger, frustration, sadness, and despair. The despair stuck.

* * *

><p>"We can't have another afternoon like that," said Seiji. "That was too much rice for no warriors."<p>

"I don't know how else we'll get warriors to listen to us," said Kenji. "Do you two have any ideas?"

They shook their heads.

"Let's try a different corner tomorrow. Maybe over by the taverns?"

Koji shook his head. "That just seems like asking for trouble. Think of all the grief we had dealing with sober warriors. Now imagine them drunk."

"The entertainment street, then?"

"If a warrior has money to burn on the entertainment street, why would he possibly agree to fight for meals?"

Kenji threw his hands up. "I don't know, I'm just throwing out ideas!" They sat for a moment. "What if… what if we just went home?"

The others looked at him with alarm. "Just… pretend this never happened, get home and get on with farming?"

"You know we can't do that," said Koji. "You were the one who showed us that."

"I don't want my baby girl to die," whispered Seiji.

"And if the bandits suspect we tried to hire warriors, they'll kill us just on principle."

Kenji bit his thumb. "But if we can't hire warriors here… it'll have all been for nothing… at least, at least then we'd have a couple of extra days with our families…"

None of them dared speak.

"In the morning," Kenji said, "I'll ask the innkeeper where we can find warriors."

They nodded. "That's as good a plan as any," said Koji.

They went to bed. But they did not sleep, not for a long time.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: "...And They Called Him Sonic"<em>


	2. And They Called Him Sonic

Morning came. The innkeeper wanted to be helpful (the overcharge was weighing on his conscience), but his best advice was to try the market again. "Even warriors have to eat," he said.

So the peasants headed out with feigned enthusiasm and no real hope. As they approached, they encountered a flow of people going the other direction.

"What's going on?" Kenji asked a random person.

"I heard there's a burglary that went wrong," was the answer.

"Maybe there's a warrior there," said Kenji to his friends, but without any conviction. It was enough; they had no energy to argue the point. They let the stream carry them to the scene.

All they could see was a storefront. It was the type of store where the family lives above the shop. The peasants asked many questions, and eventually got the story put together:

"A desperate thief was trying to rob this store. The storekeeper's family came down in the morning; their boy was first. The thief seized the boy and held him at knifepoint. He told the parents to get out of the store, but when they did, they raised a commotion, so the thief couldn't escape. It's been a couple of hours now, and he's starting to make threats against the boy. He was probably hungry before he tried the burglary, he must be starving now."

"I feel terrible for the boy," said Kenji.

"I feel terrible for the parents," whispered Seiji.

Kenji continued, "There's no way this can end well. The burglar can't escape—he can't drag the boy with him everywhere, and the moment he lets go, the crowd will get him. But no one can go in and rescue the boy while the bandit's holding him."

"What's that?" said Koji.

He pointed; his companions looked. Outside the crowd, a blue figure was donning a priest's vestments. When he was satisfied, he picked up a bowl of something steaming and headed for the side of the shop.

"There's a side entrance," said Kenji. "Look, he's headed for it!"

The crowd grew hushed as this knowledge spread. The blue figure knocked at the door, then backed up several paces.

The door opened.

"Good morning, may the grace of God be with you," said the blue figure. He bowed his head and held the bowl forward so that the thief could see it and smell it.

The thief was still inside the shop. The angle of the side door meant that the crowd couldn't see or hear him. He must have spoken, though, because the blue figure responded. "No, I'm not asking for a trade. I just realized that you've been in that shop all night and all morning, so you must be hungry. Compassion told me to act."

The thief spoke again—must have been instructions. The blue figure nodded several times. He placed the bowl just inside the verge, then backed up two steps. He sank to his knees and bowed deeply, pressing his forehead to the ground and stretching forward with his arms.

The boy's parents cried out in betrayal, but the blue figure showed them no mind.

Then…

It happened in a flash, in a heartbeat, in a blink, a sudden blur of motion, yet one instant seemed suspended. The blue figure had used the priest's robes to conceal that he was transitioning to a sprinter's stance. Who knows what must have triggered him, what with his eyes staring at the dirt. But at some unknown sign, he surged forward.

The moment seemed to stretch out forever. There was the figure's body, fully extended in a lunge, straining from plant foot to thrusting arm, having gone from kowtow to attack without, it seemed, any intervening motion; and there, at the end of his outstretched hand, was the flash of a thin dagger he hadn't even been holding.

The moment ended; time resumed. The figure disappeared into the shop. The crowd dared not breathe.

Seconds passed.

More time.

Still more time. The only sound was the panicked sobbing of the boy's parents.

And then the boy came running out of the door, screaming "Mommy!" at the top of his lungs.

The crowd pressed in then, congratulating and consoling and applauding. Kenji, Koji, and Seiji looked from one to another. They knew, instantly. They saw the same thought on each other's face.

This was the one.

If they got no other warrior, this was the one they had to get.

Some of the crowd was wondering where the blue figure was. Only the peasants pushed through the crowd towards the shop's side door.

A pink figure got there first. It was the warrior-in-training they'd seen yesterday. She was standing outside the verge. As before, the peasants could only hear her end of the conversation.

"I need a master," she said. "I've decided on you."

They heard mumbles. The blue figure must have been talking.

"No other master will do. I've seen what kind of warrior you are."

Laughter. A long pause. Mumbles. The pink warrior blushed. "I'm willing to take that chance," she said. "I've seen both that you're skilled, and that you do things for others. You're the master I want. The one I need."

"You don't know what you need," said the blue figure as he crossed into the outdoors. "Go home. Find someone to teach you how to be a decent person. You could make it, I think, and it's a lot rarer than it sounds."

The peasants gawked at the blue figure. At first, they'd thought he had just been wearing blue clothes. But no, he really was a blue-furred animal, a hedgehog. His eyes were green and large, though they had begun to wrinkle around the edges. His demeanor was upbeat and cheery, but the peasants sensed an edge; this was, after all, a creature who'd just killed a man. He gave off a sense, not that he'd been there and done that, but that he'd been everywhere and done everything. Looking at him, they could tell he couldn't be much older than thirty, if that. It was the feel that was deceptive. He felt like he could be fifty. Or eighty.

He noticed the peasants. "Excuse me," he said. "I have to return these robes. I borrowed them in good faith; I hope they didn't stain."

Koji glanced back at the rescued boy. There wasn't a drop of blood on him.

"Sir, we need your help," said Kenji.

"I'm not taking students, like I just told Amy here," he said. He was still smiling, but his face had begun to harden.

"We don't want to be your students," Kenji said hastily. "Well… sort of, we do."

"Which is it?"

"We're here to save our village. We're under threat by bandits. We can't fight them, we don't know how, so we came here to hire warriors to fight for us and to teach us."

"You want to kill the bandits?"

"We can't give them what they demand without starving, sir. If we don't fight, we'll all die."

"You might die if you fight."

"We're willing to take the chance, sir, if you lead us."

The blue figure sighed. It was a long, slow sigh. Two people could have exchanged remarks in the time it took the sigh to complete. The blue figure's eyes shifted during the sigh, as if he was looking at someplace beyond Akemo, maybe beyond the planet. If he'd felt old before the sigh, now he felt ancient.

"You don't want me," he said abruptly.

"B-but we do," said Kenji. His words dripped sincerity and panic.

"You don't want me," said the blue figure, "because I have never won a battle."

He couldn't have surprised Kenji more if he'd slapped him. "W-what?"

"I have to return these robes," he said brusquely. He pushed on past the peasants.

"But—but sir! We need you!"

He stopped. He stood still for a few moments. "Think about what I've said," he told them. "If you still want my help, then… come to the corner outside the church at noon."

He started walking again. "But sir!" Kenji shouted to him. He paused once more. "What's your name?"

They could barely make out a hint of a smile. "They call me Sonic," he said. Then he walked on, brooking no interruption, not even by the warrior-girl Amy as she tailed after him.

* * *

><p>"I've never seen anything like that," said Kenji. "That was unbelievable. He killed the thief, saved the boy—did you see? He even kept the boy from getting any blood on him!"<p>

"I told you about that," said Koji crossly.

"It was amazing. And you know, I don't care what he said. He's the one we need. He's the answer to our prayers."

"Didn't you hear?" said Koji. "He said he's never won a battle. That doesn't say much for our future, does it?"

"I'm sure he's exaggerating," Kenji answered dismissively. "I mean, if he's never won a battle, how is he still alive?"

"Maybe he's a coward," said Koji.

Kenji took it as an insult himself. "Coward? Coward! He deliberately went looking for that battle this morning, cowards don't seek out a fight like that—oh, and see? He must be exaggerating, because he won that battle this morning, right?"

"Not much of a battle," said Koji.

"It still counts."

"I'd rather have an unimpressive winner than an incredible loser."

Kenji rolled his eyes. "Seiji? What do you think?"

Seiji looked up. "I think he's the first one who's said he might help," he answered. "So we'd better take him, or we might not get anyone."

"Thank you very much," said Kenji. He gave Koji a smug look. Koji yielded.

"And he's skinny," Seiji added, "so I bet he doesn't eat much rice."

Kenji laughed. "That's the spirit! You know, for the first time, things are looking up!"

* * *

><p>Kenji fumed.<p>

The sun was going down. They'd been standing on the corner outside the church for hours. There was no sign of Sonic—if that was even his real name, Kenji thought bitterly. He'd gotten all worked up justifying him to Koji and Seiji, and now he wasn't even going to tell them 'no' himself?

Koji tactfully said nothing.

Shortly before sunset, Sonic appeared. He exited the church, walked towards the peasants, saw them, stopped.

"Sir!" called Kenji. "Sonic, sir!"

He sighed. "I thought you might be there."

"Were you expecting us to not be?"

"Not exactly," said Sonic. "But I knew if you really needed me, you'd still be here."

"Is that what this was, sir? A test?"

Sonic shook his head. "No, no test. Bad luck, honestly. It took a lot longer to get the blood out of those vestments than I'd thought. But I couldn't give them back with blood on them, it wouldn't have been right. I should have sent someone to tell you I was running late. Sorry about that."

Kenji swallowed, nodded. "It's alright, sir. Will you help us?"

Sonic rubbed his forehead. He had unusually large hands. He had worn white gloves this morning, but now they were off, and even without them his hands were large. "Can you take me to where you're staying and explain your situation?"

"Sure," said Kenji.

Inside their room, they offered him rice. He set the bowl at his feet.

"How many bandits?" he asked when they finished their story.

They glanced at each other. "About sixty, we think," said Koji uncertainly, "plus five robots."

"Five robots," Sonic murmured. "Heh… that takes me back. And the payment?"

Kenji and Koji looked at each other again. They were entirely too embarrassed to speak at this point. Seiji spoke up. "Our gratitude," he said quietly. "A warm, dry place to sleep. Three meals a day, all the rice you can eat."

Sonic nodded slowly. "So this bowl is a down payment," he said, motioning to his feet.

"Of sorts," said Kenji.

"How long do we have?"

"They'll be back after the harvest. Sensei told us to return before the stalks of rice bend their heads."

"When's that? I'm not a farmer."

They looked at Seiji. He seemed to be speaking the numbers to himself. "Half a moon?" he said. "Maybe one moon? Rice is ready when it's ready."

Sonic nodded again. "How many other warriors do you have already?"

"You'd be the first," said Kenji with a blush.

Sonic reached down, picked up the bowl, and brought it up. "Not that I expect to win, but… I accept your rice," he said. "I won't waste a grain."

Smiles burst upon the peasants' faces. They'd done it! They'd got one! "Thank you, sir!" said Kenji.

They all began to eat. "I'd like to get seven, if we could," said Sonic thoughtfully.

"Seven?" the peasants said as one.

"That would be all I could hope for. I could make do with five, I think. But I'd like seven." He put down the empty bowl. He'd been as good as his word. "Tomorrow we'll go looking. I have a few ideas. Then tomorrow night you'll tell me about your village, and we'll start planning."

"Of course, sir," said Kenji. He turned to Koji. "This just might work after all!"

Sonic smiled. "It always has to start somewhere," he said. "Just remember one thing." He turned to lay down on his mat. His face was away from the peasants.

"What's that?"

The answer was a long time in coming. Finally he said, "This is the easy part."

He slept. They did not.

* * *

><p>They had no luck over the next two days. With Sonic standing with them, no one was foolish enough to try and rob them. At the same time, he possibly deterred some warriors from speaking to them at all. The only good thing that happened was that Sonic brought over his other belongings, which turned out to be sparse: a backpack with scraps of medical supplies, a spare pair of shoes, a set of well-worn and oft-patched leathers, and his sword.<p>

The peasants were in awe of the sword. It was a katana: single-edged, slightly curved, medium length, designed for use with two hands, sharp as a courtly insult. "It's beautiful," said Kenji.

Sonic barked a laugh. "It's generic. There are plenty just like it. I own custom-made shoes, but not a custom sword. I have a bad habit of breaking them."

On the third day, Sonic sent the peasants to their usual location, then split off on his own. "Where are you going?" they asked.

"I heard of a street performer I want to check out," he said.

"Street performer?" said Koji. "What kind of street performer will help us defend our village?"

"I don't know," said Kenji. Seiji frowned but said nothing.

Sonic headed to the street where he'd heard the performer had set up. He didn't need to look very far—a fair crowd was making a circle on one side of the street. Sonic slipped through the crowd. "What's going on?" he asked.

"This joker says he's gonna cut through that stone block in two with his sword!"

"No," said another bystander. "He said he'd pulverize it!"

"Same difference. He's got a sword. It's not gonna happen!"

Sonic might have thought the same, until he saw the figure in question.

He was red-furred with a ring of white along his collar. Hidden beneath gloves, his hands bore gruesome deformities: two barbs per hand extended forward from behind his knuckles. He was an echidna. Dreadlocks were arrayed around his head though none encroached on his face. He bore a look of intense concentration.

In his hands was a massive sword, almost two thirds the height of its owner when handgrip and pommel were added. It was a claymore. A type of two-edged broadsword, claymores were usually not very sharp, and did almost as much damage with their sheer mass as with their cutting power. This one had a widely-flared handguard and a large, round, ornate pommel. It would have had to be large to counterbalance the sword's weight, but Sonic still eyed the pommel suspiciously. It bore a delicately-worked design of a large jewel over a white arc, similar to Knuckles' collar-fur. It was a work of art.

The echidna circled the stone block, which rested on wooden blocks until it was about waist height. He let the point of his sword rest on the center of the block and rotated around it like a pinwheel. He said nothing. The crowd filled the gap with whispers.

Another rotation. If he could have burned a hole into the block with his eyes, it would have been seared through. The whispers began to die out.

A third rotation, ending with the echidna facing towards the street. The crowd was silent. Sonic admired the echidna's showmanship.

The echidna gathered his sword up and held it with both hands. The blade was parallel to his body; it was so wide his eyes were almost concealed by the blade. He trembled slightly, just enough to be visible.

"HaaaaaaAAA!" He stepped forward and struck. But he did not swing the blade. Instead he raised the blade high above him and thrust downwards with the pommel. He bent his knees as he came down. This put his arms parallel to the ground when the pommel hit the stone like a jackhammer.

The resulting "crack" shot through the crowd like an electric shock. The stone split. Some of it was turned to dust by the blow. The stone was so damaged that it crumbled into pieces which tumbled from the wooden blocks. In a way, both predictions turned out to be correct.

The echidna stood back up, wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow, and took a bow.

The crowd applauded; some people tittered laughter at his unusual approach. Coins followed the applause. Mostly small coins. The echidna straightened up and watched them come in, clearly indicating that the show was over. He'd wait to pick them up until the crowd dispersed.

After a few more moments, only Sonic remained. Finally the echidna felt comfortable enough to gather his earnings. "Impressive trick," said Sonic.

The echidna huffed. "Not that impressive, judging by this. Barely enough to cover the costs of the stone."

"I think your talents are wasted here, anyway."

The echidna snorted. "What would you know about my talents?"

Sonic cocked his head. "Want to come help me kill sixty bandits and five robots? The odds are bad, we're painfully outnumbered, and casualties are guaranteed. Plus, there's no payoff. The village we're defending is destitute, so even if we win, all we get is food and lodging and, of course, their gratitude."

The echidna gaped at him. "That's the worst sales pitch I've ever heard!"

Sonic grinned. "So, you in?"

The echidna laughed and let his head hang. "Sure," he said. "Why not?"

"See? I don't need a good sales pitch if I know my audience." He offered a hand. "The name's Sonic."

The echidna shook it. "Knuckles," he replied.

"Let's head back. I've got some friends for you to meet."

"Sure." Knuckles reached to the side of the road to retrieve his belonging. The scabbard to his claymore ran diagonally across his back to keep it away from his legs. His money purse was threadbare and thin.

"Is that it?"

"I travel light." Knuckles shot him a suspicious smile. "I thought you said you knew your audience."

"I know you enough to know you'd come."

"How?"

"What, and reveal my secrets?"

"Secrets… ha! Don't make me laugh."

"Heh. Okay, it's just experience. I've been around a bit. I could sorta guess what kind of person you are."

Knuckles nodded. "Maybe… maybe. So where's your sword?"

Sonic didn't even blink. "What sword?"

Knuckles gave Sonic a look. It's the sort of look that invites a person to stop teasing before they have to be accused of lying.

"Alright, alright. It's at the inn. I left it behind because I wasn't sure how you'd turn out." Sonic smiled. "I think we understand each other."

Knuckles laughed. "I don't think two people can ever really understand each other," he said. "But we know enough to get along."

"Works for me. Here, let's go. There're some people I'd like for you to meet."

* * *

><p>"Two down, five to go," said Kenji. "Thank you very much, sir."<p>

"Knuckles," said the echidna gruffly.

"Sir Knuckles."

"No, no sir!" he insisted. "Just Knuckles. I don't get a special title just 'cause I swing a sword."

"As you say, s—yes."

Knuckles noticed that Sonic was giving him an appraising look. "What?" he growled.

"Nothing," said Sonic. "Seiji, the numbers check out, don't they?"

Seiji sat up. "They do," he admitted. The words were sharp and tight; they'd had to get through his embarrassment to be spoken.

"What numbers?" asked Koji.

"He was measuring the rice," said Sonic. "He thought I might have filched some this morning while you guys were out."

"Seiji!" said Kenji. "Aren't you ashamed? To doubt our warriors like that!"

Seiji's blush remained, but he looked at Sonic with determination. "I had to be sure," he said. "Warriors have been trying to steal from us too often."

"I don't blame you," said Sonic. "I wish the world wasn't like that, but it is."

"Most warriors are just three meals from banditry anyway," said Knuckles.

"But not you?" prompted Sonic.

"'Course not. I can always go back to street performances."

"Most warriors have too much pride to be street performers."

"But not too much for banditry? People suck."

Sonic laughed. "You're right about that!" Knuckles laughed with him. The peasants laughed, too, out of nervousness and confusion.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: The Cold and the Cruel<em>

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Kenji, Koji, and Seiji are the names of some Japanese people I once knew. I used only the names, not their personalities or relationships.<em>

_If it seems odd to have Sonic kill someone, that's because the Segasonic universe has always been highly sanitized. The bad guys are always robots, no one actually dies unless it's long in the past and it's a flashback, etc. That wouldn't work for this type of story. Here, even the good guys have to know when and how to kill. That doesn't make Sonic any less of a good guy, it just means he's in a rougher world, and has to work much harder to keep on being a good guy. It's easy to be a good guy when nothing you do dirties you. To remain a good guy in spite of living in harsh times—that's really something, and I think Sonic can pull it off._


	3. The Cold and the Cruel

Another day. More rice. No new warriors.

"We'd better get back," said Kenji. "There won't be any warriors coming this way once the merchants go home."

"There you are, Sonic!"

The pink warrior-girl was there again. She had eyes only for Sonic; the peasants might not have existed. "Who's that?" asked Knuckles.

"An aspirant," said Sonic. His face was frozen. While he was still smiling, it seemed like a sort of rictus grin. "Hey Knux, could you take the peasants back to the room? This might take a while."

"Sure thing."

"You're the best." Sonic turned to Amy. "What do you want?"

"Why've you been hiding?"

"I haven't been hiding. I just didn't tell you where I was going."

"Same thing! You're trying to make it hard for me to find you!"

"Well, good. Looks like we agree about something."

She pouted. "Come on, that's not funny!"

He sighed. "I'm not responsible to you, Amy. Get lost."

"I will not. I told you, I want you to be my teacher."

"And stalking me is supposed to make me take you on as a student?"

"I thought maybe you were just testing my persistence."

"I have no doubts about that."

"Then what…"

He cut her off. He moved in on her in two swift strides. His face had turned flinty; his eyes danced with an inner fire. Despite herself, Amy's mouth opened in fear. She took a half-step backwards, but he moved close enough to dominate her whole vision.

"You don't know what you're asking," he said. "You don't know what I am, or what being a warrior is all about."

"That's part of why I need a teacher," she said.

He shook his head. "You don't know what you need. Where I go, you can't follow."

Her face turned fierce. "And why not? I'm strong. I'm fast. I've studied. There's nothing too tough for me."

"It's not like that."

"Then what?"

"You don't have the smell of blood on you."

His eyes matched hers. She faltered a moment. "What do you mean? You don't smell of… of…"

She didn't know why she couldn't complete the sentence. Strictly speaking, she was right. There was no unusual smell about him at all, least of all the iron tang of blood. But she knew what he meant. There was no question that the two of them were vastly different, that their experiences were worlds apart. There was a gulf between them that couldn't be crossed by land, sea, or air.

"So… you're saying I have to kill someone to come with you?"

He frowned. "Would you?"

"No," she said after a moment's thought.

He gave a bare smile. "Well, that's something. I still think you could turn out decent, Amy. Find another path."

"But you're decent," she protested.

"Am I?" he wondered aloud.

"Of course you are," she said.

"Heh. Maybe, maybe not. In reality, I'm just the…" he cut himself off. "Listen, Amy. You think you know what I am. But that's because you think everything is simple. I'm not saying you have to have killed someone to come with me. I'm saying you don't understand what being a warrior is."

"That's why I need a teacher," she insisted. "I've said it before."

"I've met bulldogs less persistent than you," said Sonic. "The answer's still no."

"I'll follow you whether you want me to or not," she said.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's not supposed to be."

"It's dangerous, where I'm going."

"You'd better let me stay with you, then."

"I thought you said you can take care of yourself."

"I can," she said defensively.

"Then take care of yourself," he said, "and stay clear of me."

He walked away from her. She was a real winner, he reflected. She could probably end up doing any number of things if she could just take them seriously. What she wanted, though… wasn't possible.

Sonic had never had a student before. Had never, in fact, had anybody ask to be his student. He travelled a lot, and by the time people figured out they wanted to be his student, he was already gone. It was lonely, yes, but liberating.

A student? No. Nothing but trouble. Bad for her, bad for him. Best to stay clear.

Yet a part of him remained behind, worrying over what she might do, and what she might become.

* * *

><p>The sun was climbing to noon. It beat down hotly on the crowd. They didn't mind. You didn't get to see a spectacle like this every day.<p>

Akemo saw lots of strangers, and lots of warriors. But it saw few strange warriors that, upon arriving, started asking around for the toughest local fighter.

The word had reached the taverns. When the stranger got to that district, there was practically a line waiting for him.

He knew better than to put himself in a position to get mugged, beaten up, and robbed. Locals hate an arrogant newcomer. They treat them very badly. The best cure for a man with ego enough for two is fists enough for five. So, if you actually are an arrogant newcomer, it pays to use a bit of discretion. He hired a messenger and used him to negotiate the duel.

Town outskirts. One point. No edges- meaning their weapons would be sheathed to prevent death.

The news had spread, of course, so that even some wayward peasants heard about it. Sonic and the others were in the crowd. Amy was there, too, at a respectful distance. Sonic ignored her.

The local champion was human. He was garbed in local fashions. He carried a long sword. The crowd cheered him as he went out to the duel area.

The stranger stood alone, waited alone, and said nothing. He was a black-furred hedgehog with wildly-arranged quills and red eyes. His expression was somber and dispassionate. He waited at the appointed place, seemingly oblivious to the crowd.

The local champion lined up opposite from him. "You ready?" he said.

The stranger bowed, very low and formally. The local champion hastened to imitate. When the stranger straightened up, he grasped his katana.

The local champion charged. He crossed the ten paces' separation quickly. He shouted a battle cry as he came. The long sword was high above his head. The challenger waited in a neutral stance. He seemed to be looking through the champion rather than at him.

The champion swung. It was opportunistic, strong, maybe a touch wild.

The challenger swung. The motions were precise, measured, efficient. It was like watching an instruction manual come to life.

Both swings connected.

The crowd murmured. Who'd hit first? It had happened so fast…

The champion backed off, laughing loudly, thinking quickly on the best way to save face. "A draw, huh? Didn't see that coming!"

"No." The challenger had remained in his attack stance; only now did he return to a standing position.

"Whaddya mean, 'no'?" asked the champion angrily.

"I won." It was a statement of fact, spoken without emotion or doubt. The champion's face twisted in fury.

"Like hell! We hit at the same time!"

"I won."

The champion spit on the challenger. The challenger looked at where the spit hit, but made no other reaction. He turned to leave.

"Get back here, you pussy!"

The challenger stopped. "Yes?" he said.

"You insulted me twice," said the champion, blind with rage. "We're gonna settle this, now!"

"Unsheathed swords, you mean?"

"Yes!"

"I accept."

Each of them walked back to their starting positions. Sonic shook his head. "It's such a waste," he said.

Knuckles nodded his agreement. "It's so obvious."

"What's obvious?" asked Amy, discreetly.

Sonic glanced at her, then turned his eyes back to the fight. "Tell you in a moment."

The champion tossed the sheath from his long sword. He trembled with fury. The challenger was nonplussed as ever. He set his sheath out of the way. He turned and offered a formal bow.

The bow was not accepted.

The local champion was sprinting forward while the challenger's head was lowered. The long sword was to the side of his body. The champion had more reach and a longer weapon. He planted his feet at maximum range and swung horizontally at neck-height. The goal was decapitation. There was too much power behind the attack to block it.

The challenger had never planned to block.

He ducked down, using his left hand to suspend himself. The long sword whistled above his head. Before the local champion could register what was happening, the challenger lunged forward. The single motion had so much energy behind it that it propelled the challenger past the champion. He barely even swung his sword. It was more like he dragged it, with the velocity of his lunge providing the power.

His attack was absurdly precise. The katana slipped neatly between ribs, following the bone around and up, bisecting the champion's lung and nicking artery after artery.

It took the challenger two steps to bring his speed under control and come to a stop.

The champion stood still for a moment, then crumpled like a puppet whose strings are cut.

The crowd murmured in disbelief and awe. Sonic and Knuckles glanced to each other and nodded. Amy just shook her head in confusion. "What just happened?" she asked. "I thought they were a match! They weren't even close!"

Sonic gave a humph. "There are certain types of strokes that swordsmen use as exercises. They're different from the ones you might use in battle. The challenger knew the difference. The local champion only thought he did."

Knuckles added, "The challenger was just using him as a training dummy. A full-speed, moving training dummy. The champion didn't know what he was getting into. He never had a chance."

The challenger, oblivious to it all, swung his sword to get rid of most of the blood. Then he walked back to the champion, and used his robes to wipe the blade clean.

"How rude!" said Amy. "He's desecrating the body!"

"He doesn't think about it like that. To him, he's just caring for his sword," said Sonic. "The sword matters more than anything else."

"That's so cold," said Amy. "He killed him without a second thought. He knew he was better, and he killed him anyway."

Knuckles chuckled. "Now that I think about it, I don't think he was going to let the local guy get away without a fight. He played on his pride perfectly. Of course, maybe I'm giving him too much credit."

"No, you're probably right," said Sonic. "Let's go talk to him. He might be useful."

"Useful?" protested Amy. "A guy that cruel, useful?"

"What do you care?" said Sonic. "You're not going."

"I am too, and anyway, you're so different from him! How can you associate with a guy like him?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," said Sonic. "Besides, I don't think he's actually a bad guy. C'mon, Knux." The two swordsmen walked down towards the challenger. Amy trailed, sullenly, behind.

The challenger had finished cleaning his sword. He stood up in time to see Sonic and Knuckles approach. The rest of the crowd was dispersing, or maintaining a wary distance. None wanted to give the challenger an excuse to strike again.

"That was impressive," said Sonic. "May I see your sword?"

The challenger held it up across his hands, but stayed away. He seemed reluctant to let go of the blade. Sonic understood and didn't press the issue. He peered close while keeping his distance.

"Hm… shallower than a normal katana. That'll keep the weight down, though it lowers your defense. You must take good care of it to keep from breaking such a brittle sword."

The challenger said nothing, but his eyes transitioned from suspicion to appreciation.

"No handguard, either. Another sacrifice in the name of speed?"

The challenger nodded. "You know swords," he said. His voice was low, and gravelly from underuse.

"You know, I have an opportunity for you to truly display your skills. You're not gonna find much here in Akemo, not after that show. But if you're interested, I can give you a much greater challenge."

The challenger's eyes narrowed. "I'm interested. Go on."

"Sixty bandits. Five robots. Up against a handful of peasants and us," he said, motioning to Knuckles. "Those odds steep enough for you?"

The challenger nodded. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. "On one condition."

"Yes?"

"When it's over, you and I will fight."

"What kind of condition is that?" blurted Amy. "You're going to fight together, then kill each other?"

Sonic gave Amy a grin. "What, do you think I'll lose?" She turned away, fighting off a blush. "In all fairness, I might lose," said Sonic as he turned back to the challenger. "Heh… sounds like fun. I accept."

The challenger nodded.

"What's your name?"

The challenger hesitated a moment, as if he had to dig the name up from a disused part of his memory. "Shadow."

"I'm Sonic. Welcome to the team."

* * *

><p>At this point, the thought of having more warriors was comforting to the peasants. The reality was less pleasant altogether.<p>

Knuckles was blunt and outspoken; he said things that even Kenji wouldn't have spoken aloud. He wasn't bigger than Seiji, or even Sonic, but he seemed to take up double the amount of space he should. Shadow did nothing of the sort. He rarely spoke, and then only when prompted. He did not go to the market to help the others recruit. He sat in the corner for hours at a time, seemingly asleep. It was impossible to tell when he was unconscious, though. Whenever someone opened a conversation, or made a sudden movement, Shadow's eyes were on him immediately, appraising, unblinking. To say it was unnerving would be to undersell the point. The peasants sat as far away from him as possible.

Amy was never far away. Sonic ignored her whenever that was practical, so she started striking up conversations with Knuckles. She tried twice to speak with Shadow. The first time, she managed to get four whole syllables out of him before she gave up. The second time, she got more words but less satisfaction. She tried to explain how she really ought to be allowed to go with the others to the peasant village, and how she wanted so badly to learn from Sonic, and how this was the best chance to do it. Shadow responded with one sentence that both creeped her out and made her furious:

"You don't have the smell of blood on you."

After that she pretended that he didn't exist.

"Seiji, are the stalks of rice bending their heads?"

Seiji shifted uncomfortably. "How should I know?" he said. "I'm here in Akemo."

"No one knows better than you," said Kenji encouragingly. "You have rice in your blood."

Seiji sighed and thought hard. The other peasants didn't disturb him, but waited patiently. Some things could not be rushed.

"Not yet," Seiji pronounced, "but soon. Days before the first ones start. Maybe a week, week-and-a-half for the rest."

"We're almost out of time, then," said Kenji with alarm.

"And we still only have three warriors," said Koji.

"Well... three and a half."

"You're counting that Amy girl?"

"Koji, she'll come whether Sonic wants her to or not."

"But will she do anything when she gets there?"

"I hope so."

Seiji nodded. "That's still only three-and-a-half warriors," he said. "Sonic said he wanted seven."

They nodded somberly. "Well, we're starting to get them faster," said Kenji. "Maybe it'll keep going like that."

It was all they could hope for.

* * *

><p><em>The next time I update this story, Monday or Tuesday next week, it will be rated M.<em>

_Coming soon: Aid Unasked-For_


	4. Aid Unasked For

"I think that one would have worked out," said Amy.

"He would have been useless," Knuckles replied.

"We'll never know, will we? You chased him away."

"I just asked him a question."

"You asked him if he'd ever cut three men in half with one swing."

"And?"

"It's an unfair question! No one's cut three men in half with one swing!"

"_I_ have."

"Well, you're just a weirdo! It's still an unfair question."

Knuckles looked to Sonic. "Hey Sonic, have you ever cut three men in half with one swing?"

Sonic shook his head. "Nope. I'm a one-to-one sort of guy."

Knuckles looked back to Amy. "See?"

"What was I supposed to see?"

Knuckles made a face that said it was painful how dense she was. "Have _you_ ever cut three men in half with one swing?"

"Of course not!" she said, scandalized.

"Well, there you go."

"I still don't get it."

"You may be useless, but at least you weren't afraid of the question. If someone's afraid of a question, they're entirely too flaky for my taste. I wouldn't want to fight alongside him. You'd spend your whole day worrying about what else he's afraid of. No, when I've got people fighting by my side, I want to know they've got guts."

Amy still looked perturbed, but said nothing more.

They reentered their room. "Where's sir Shadow?" asked Kenji.

"Before we left, he told me he needed to go practice," said Sonic.

"Oh, okay. Sir Sonic… we're running out of time."

"And rice," Seiji added.

Kenji nodded in agreement. "And rice. It's maybe five, six days before we need to be back, and we still only have three and a half warriors."

Amy pouted. "What, I'm half a warrior now?"

"I would have said three, myself," said Sonic. Amy tossed her head in anger. "But relax. I said we could make do with five, and I have another I still have to go get. If I knew you were worrying so much, I would have mentioned him sooner. Sorry about that."

"You have another? But what if he won't come?"

Sonic laughed aloud as if Kenji's words were a hilarious joke. "He'll come. Ooooh, yes. He'll come."

Kenji frowned, but nodded. "That still leaves us with only four and a h—four."

"Then I suppose you need MY help, don't you?"

The voice came from above them. As everyone looked up, she dropped to the ground.

She was a white-furred bat. Her ears were large and constantly making slight movements. She wore a tight matte black bodysuit, with boots and gloves over it. The bodysuit didn't cover her full bust; it showed off enough cleavage to make Amy both contemptuous and envious. Unlike normal bats, her wings weren't extensions of her arms, but a separate set of limbs springing from her back. Her eyelashes were long. She wore just enough makeup to touch up her appearance but not enough to really notice. Although she was slim, she was tightly muscled. Every part of her seemed like a coiled spring. Her body screamed both sex and danger.

She had landed in a crouch; now she stood, and made even that simple movement a concerto of shifting muscle and dangerous curves. "I heard you guys needed a hand," she said with a smirk.

Knuckles stormed in front of her. "Who are you?" he said.

"Temper, temper," she said coyly. "Don't get all hot and bothered, now. You can call me Rouge."

"How do you know about us?" said Knuckles.

"I was passing by and one of my sources told me about you. I followed the trail and, well, it wasn't hard for someone like me." She pointed at herself daintily. She even smelled of arrogance. "I know you're looking for fighters to help out a peasant village. It could be a good opportunity for me."

"What kind of opportunity? I can't believe you're here out of the goodness of your heart."

"Hardly. You see, I'm a… call me an agent. I solve people's problems for them. The trouble is, I'm out of favor at the moment. You can do your job too well sometimes, you know? Especially if you have a habit of not dying when you're supposed to. So I figured I'd find a job that provides a useful service, and that shows off my… talents. It would remind employers that I am still the best that money can buy."

"You are so full of shit," said Knuckles.

Her expression turned from amiable to harsh in the blink of an eye. "What do you know about it, boy? I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm here to help you, and that's enough."

"We're here to kill the bandits, not lay them."

Her disdain returned. "I happen to be quite capable in both fields." She grinned humorlessly. Her mouth was full of very sharp, pointy teeth. "Care to find out?"

"Any time, any place!"

She gestured mildly to the side of the room and spoke to him in a singsong child's voice. "Oh, but the wittle boy fowgot his sword! How can he handle a woman wike me wiffout it?"

He brandished a gloved, barbed fist at her. "I don't need weapons to kill," he said angrily.

"Lay off it, both of you," said Sonic. "It's no use to anyone to fight here. The village needs all of us. Rouge, stop provoking him. Knuckles, it's not worth it."

They stepped away from each other and lowered their hands. "I would have won," grumbled Knuckles.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Sonic. "It would have been a hollow victory either way. One of you would be dead, and the other would be dying."

Rouge laughed haughtily. "You're saying we're evenly matched?"

Sonic crossed his arms. "Claws built into the fingers of your gloves, right?"

She gave him a cool, appraising look. "How did you know?"

"You left marks on the ceiling," he said, pointing upwards. "And your gloves—you didn't pick that material for the comfort. You picked it because it doesn't absorb or stain with blood. You're the sort who kills with her hands."

Knuckles snorted. "What is she, some kind of modern-day kunoichi?"

"Some of the time," she said dismissively. She was looking at Sonic with curiosity.

"I don't trust her one bit," said Knuckles. "She's the sort who'll change loyalties in a heartbeat. Who's to say she won't sell us out to the bandits?"

She gave Knuckles the sort of look a teenager gives a grade-schooler. "I have standards, little boy. Betrayal is beneath me."

"Besides," said Sonic, "if she was going to sell us out to the bandits, she wouldn't have come here tonight. There's nothing to gain by it."

Rouge watched Sonic carefully as he spoke. Something about him seemed to register with her. "I know you," she said slowly. "I heard about you, back during the wars. You were famous in some places. They called you the Knight…"

"That's enough," Sonic interrupted. "That was a long time ago. Another lifetime, almost."

Amy looked at Sonic with widening eyes. There was always so much more to him!

"Intriguing," said Rouge. "I really will enjoy working with you."

Knuckles huffed. "I guess we all have things from our past we don't care to share," he said.

Rouge turned on him immediately. "Aww, does the wittle boy have a secwet?"

"Don't push your luck, rat!"

"I'm a bat, you ignoramus!"

"Just a rat with wings!"

Sonic rolled his eyes. "We don't have time to constantly chaperone you two. Behave yourselves or you can both leave."

They retreated to opposite sides of the room. They may as well have had daggers for eyes for the sharpness of the looks they gave each other.

Shadow walked into the room. He looked around, saw Rouge, gave her a once-over and a single nod, retreated to his corner, and lay down, as if asleep. He never let go of his sword.

Kenji and Koji pointed at the many figures in the room. Kenji spoke. "Sonic…"

Koji held up a finger.

"Knuckles…"

Two fingers.

"Shadow…"

Three fingers.

"Amy?"

A shake of the head. Three fingers.

"Rouge."

Four fingers.

"And the friend Sonic knows."

Five fingers. Five warriors—the number sensei had sent them to get, the number Sonic had said was the bare minimum.

They laughed and shared a hug. They had done it.

* * *

><p>Most of the group went out to give recruiting another try. They knew they were short on time; Seiji informed them that the rice stalks would be dipping their heads any day now. Even if they'd had more time, the peasants' rice was rapidly running out, now that it was feeding so many.<p>

Shadow stayed behind without explanation. Seiji did, as well. He didn't like the looks Rouge kept giving their rice supply.

Seiji was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The room was warm, it was quiet, it was dark, it was empty… except for Shadow, of course, but at times it seemed he didn't really count… the panic of earlier days was gone…

Seiji's thoughts drifted home, to his wife and daughter. How much had she grown? Would she still recognize him? He hadn't been gone for long, but at her age, it would seem like forever… And his wife, it hardly seemed fair to leave her alone with the baby… it was so much work, and she still had her normal chores to do… there was so much to do all the time, and precious little allowance for people who couldn't pull their weight… though if anyone could do it, it was his wife… the woman really was incredible, she had done as much work six months pregnant as most of the other women did normally, and didn't allow herself to be confined to bed rest until the last few weeks…

He stirred. Something was wrong.

He'd been nearly asleep, and Rouge was moving as near to silence as was possible, so he didn't know what alerted him. But there she was, stalking forward—towards Shadow.

Seiji's first instinct had been to protect the food, but when it became clear she wasn't paying him any mind, he froze. What was she up to?

She took step after step, each one slow, carefully measured, soundless. Closer… closer… closer… Seiji wanted to holler just to break the silence, but he couldn't, somehow he couldn't move…

Shadow's hand tightened around his sword. Seiji missed the motion, but Rouge did not. She stopped.

"So, you're awake after all."

Her words shattered the quiet and caused Seiji to shiver from released tension.

Shadow opened his eyes and stared at her.

"Were you waiting to see how close I'd come?" she asked.

"How close would you have come?"

"I guess we'll never know, will we?"

Shadow blinked once.

A mischievous look came over Rouge's face. "You know, the bioweapons labs came up with some kooky stuff, near the end, didn't they?"

Shadow gripped his sword even more tightly. Even Seiji noticed this time. "What would you know about it?"

"Only rumors, really. Rumors of projects that hadn't quite worked out. Rumors of projects made for buyers that reneged or were destroyed while they waited. Rumors of other projects they weren't able to control properly… all sorts of rumors. Whispers in the wind."

A low growl rose in Shadow's throat.

"But you… you're not a whisper, are you?"

"Do you know something or don't you?" said Shadow.

She smiled impishly. "Information is expensive," she said. "We might could do some business later."

"What if I don't want to know?"

"Then I'd say you're lying."

"There's a lot of that going around."

She showed her teeth in a grin. "I like you. We'll talk again."

She walked towards the exit, then paused and looked at Seiji. "What?" she said as if daring him to say something.

"You're mean," he said.

He didn't know what he meant by it; it was just the first thing that came to mind. It should have slid right off of her, but for some reason, it seemed to bite. Or she was annoyed that she couldn't just brush it off. Either way, she frowned, gave him a huff, and stormed out.

Seiji forced a chuckle. "Women, huh?"

Shadow shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

Silence settled over them. Shadow actively contributed to the silence. Seiji merely made no noise.

* * *

><p>"Tomorrow we leave," said Sonic.<p>

Everyone, peasant and warrior alike, nodded. They knew it was time. The rice was almost gone, anyway. "Get anything you need. We'll leave in the morning."

"I'll be sure to pack my weapon," Amy said loudly. Sonic gave her no reaction.

There was a tromping sound down the hall. Everywhere in the room, hands slid towards weapons.

A huge crocodile flung open the door. "There you are!" he said loudly. He was the sort who looked like "loud" was his only volume. "I've been looking for you guys!"

"What do you want?" said Knuckles.

"To join you, of course! I'm a warrior, just like you. I've been going from town to town, looking for good, honest work. See, look? I have a weapon!" He held forth a spear. It would have been large for a normal person, but next to the crocodile's enormous frame, it seemed a frail, puny thing. "Vector's the name, warrior extraordinaire, at your service!"

The peasants clapped, but the warriors all looked somewhat embarrassed. "What?" said Vector. "I do have the right room, right? You're the ones who are going to kill the bandits, right? Well, here I am! I want to join you! Did I mention I have my own weapon?" He brandished the spear again. "Everyone knows that samurai always carried one of three weapons—a sword, a spear, and a bow. Well, here's my spear!"

Still the warriors said nothing. Finally Shadow chuckled. "Shut up, faker."

Vector blushed purple. "What's that?" he roared.

Knuckles put his palm to his face. "If you're going to use history, get it right," he said. "Samurai carried a naginata. It's a kind of glaive—a pole-sword. Not a spear at all."

Rouge frowned. "Is that… rope?" she said. "You used rope to lash a cooking knife to a stick and called it a spear?"

"It _is_ a spear," Vector insisted.

"I've never seen anything so ridiculous. It looks like it would shatter the first time you tried to use it."

"Well, I've used it, and it didn't," Vector said. "There were… uh, highwaymen. Three of them. They were trying to rob a merchant. I fought 'em off with this spear, right here."

"Really?"

"Really really."

"What road was this on?"

"Uh…"

"Was the question too hard for you? Okay, how about this: what town were you headed for? What was the merchant's name?"

Vector was quiet for a moment. "Okay, I made it up," he admitted.

Rouge rolled her eyes. Knuckles couldn't bring himself to look at Vector.

Vector seemed to get a second wind. "But that doesn't mean I can't come with you," he said. "Any help is better than none. And I am a warrior, after all."

"You're a liability," said Shadow.

"We need warriors who can carry their own weight," said Knuckles. He gave a pointed look at Rouge, implying that the comment went to her as well.

"Just because I haven't fought in wars doesn't mean I can't do my share. Look at these muscles! Look at this physique! And these teeth!" He opened his mouth wide to make sure they all got a good look. The peasants backed away—it was an impressive sight. "I can hold my own in a fight, and I'm worth double that in intimidation value."

Rouge laughed unkindly. "I get it! I know what type you are. You're the hired muscle, aren't you? The kind of guy other people bring in as scenery. You're the bodyguard, or the bouncer, or the enforcer, but you're really a glass-jaw sort. All bark, no bite." She made a shoo gesture with her hand. "I've dispensed with plenty of your kind before. You're useless in a real fight."

All the wind seemed to have left Vector. He swayed slightly, balancing only with the help of his spear. "Well, I… uh… I mean…"

"This is a job for professionals," said Rouge. "You're an amateur. You're a distraction. We'd spend half our time trying to protect you. It's just not worth it."

Vector looked concussed. "If… if you think that's… that's right…"

"I've had enough!"

Amy wore an expression worthy of a gorgon. She interposed herself between Vector and his critics. "Listen to yourselves," she said, voice hot with fury. "Making fun of him because he's new at this. You were green once, weren't you? Weren't you?"

"Not _that_ green," said Knuckles.

"Crocodile green," Rouge said.

"So what if he _is_ green! There've been dozens of warriors who didn't have the guts to do this job. And here he's gone to all the trouble to hunt you down and volunteer, and you make fun of him! You're despicable! Knuckles, I thought what you really wanted was someone who had guts. Vector had enough guts to come in here tonight even when he didn't really know what he was doing. And all you gave him was heartache and humiliation! So were you lying to me, Knuckles? Or are you just an arrogant bastard?"

Knuckles clenched his teeth, but said nothing. Rouge showed no such restraint. "Ha! Like you know anything, girl. Anyone can tell you're as green as he is. This is just the blind leading the blind."

"Blind as a bat?"

"Ooh, you're a clever one, girlie," Rouge cooed. "Did you think that one up all on your own?"

"Who are you to talk about who's a distraction, anyway? You spend all your time fighting with Knuckles, and acting like you've got some big secret, and showing off your hoo-has—you're the biggest distraction of them all! You talk all this talk about amateurs and professionals, but he's here to take the saaame job you're taking. If you're so elite, why are you working for free?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you, girlie," Rouge snarled.

"What a cop-out! If you were all you say you are, my words wouldn't bother you. Maybe Vector's not the only one who's all bark."

Rouge huffed, then turned away, trying in vain to convey that this conversation was below her dignity.

"And you!" Amy rounded on Vector. "If you were half the warrior you want to be, you wouldn't let these jackasses cow you like that! What do they know, anyway? And why did a girl half your age have to do your fighting for you?"

"I didn't ask for your help," Vector mumbled.

"But you needed it. You needed it and never would have asked for it. You've got barely enough pride to be stupid. All of you make me sick!"

She had too much leftover passion to stand there any longer. She was boiling over with it. She stomped out of the room, rattling the floor with heavy steps.

"What a drama queen," said Rouge, though her usual nonchalance was shaky.

"Shut up," said Knuckles.

There was a moment of embarrassed quiet. Vector swayed against his spear, while the warriors retreated into privacy and the peasants stared in confusion. Sonic spoke for the first time. "Vector, I'm glad you came to us tonight. As it turns out, there's more to being a warrior than being great with a blade. I can think of a few jobs that really need someone with enthusiasm and courage. Do you still want to join us? We'd be glad to have you."

Vector's jaw dropped—and when a crocodile's jaw drops, people take notice. "You would?"

"We would?" said Shadow incredulously.

"We would," said Sonic, without looking. "If you're still interested, of course."

"Sign me up right now!" said Vector. He seemed to be crying, though you couldn't be sure, given his species.

"Welcome to the group," said Sonic. "You got that, Kenji? We're taking Vector."

"I understand."

"Now," said Sonic as he rose, "if you'll excuse me, another matter requires my attention."

He left without further explanation.

"I wonder," said Shadow.

Rouge snorted. "Bet that Amy chick gave him a boner."

"Shut up," said Knuckles.

* * *

><p>Amy was standing just outside the inn. The night was cloudless, bright, and unusually cold. It was leeching the anger out of her. She shivered a bit. She really ought to head back inside… but the thought was intolerable for now. She didn't even want to look at those so-called warriors. What was so great about them, anyway?<p>

The door opened. Amy didn't look back. She didn't care who it was, she just needed to get away, or at least for them to go away…

"Nice evening."

Okay, she'd make an exception. "Sonic," she said in surprise.

"You'll be happy to know that I accepted Vector into the group."

She turned away, a grumpy expression on her face. "It makes no difference to me. I'm not going, right?"

"I wonder about that."

Her heart fluttered. "Oh?"

He walked up beside her. She couldn't help it. She looked at him, drawn by his presence.

"I'm in a bind," he said. "After tonight, I think you could be good at anything you decided to do. That includes being a warrior."

She wanted to say thank you, or you're just flattering me, or any number of clever or witty things. She couldn't even start. Her heart was caught in her throat. All she could manage was, "Oh."

"That's the problem, you see. You could be a warrior, and I admit I could use a warrior like you right now. The thing is, the world needs you to be something else."

Her heart fell. "This is the same argument you made the first time we met, isn't it?"

"Maybe, but I'm willing to explain myself more now." He sighed. "This is a tired old world. It's really galling to see things like this, especially since I had a taste of what it was like before the fall. Now? People really don't care about each other. It's everyone for himself. No one can think higher than that."

"All those other warriors are helping for free," she said.

"For free to the peasants, maybe. But they've got their own personal reasons. We all do. They're getting something out of it, just not money."

"And you?" she asked. "What are you getting out of it?"

"Ah… me. Well." He chuckled. "This is all I know how to do, you see. I've been fighting my whole adult life. I happen to be good at it. But it doesn't lend itself to much past more fighting.

"You, on the other hand," he continued, "could become anything. You've got passion, Amy. You've got heart. And courage. And youth. You've got everything this world needs. And the way you stepped in on Vector's behalf… I felt… I felt like I was seeing something that died fifteen years ago."

She sighed. "Is that all I am?" she said sadly. "A reminder of how things used to be better? Some sort of touchstone to the past?"

"It's the opposite," said Sonic. "You're my hope for the future. You're how I want people to be from now on. You did it. That means more people can, after. You don't know how happy that makes me."

She sniffled. "Then why won't you train me?"

"It's like I said—the world doesn't need another warrior. It has too many already."

She shook her head. "It has too many _of the wrong kind_," she corrected.

He gaped a little at that, turned away. The cold breeze ran across their faces, watering their eyes and making their noses run. They fidgeted restlessly, but said nothing. A cloud drifted across the moon, but it was a wispy thing, and soon was gone.

Sonic spoke. "I wasn't lying earlier, when I said I'd never had a student."

"I believe you."

"I suppose… there's a first time for everything."

She said nothing at first, but closed her eyes, let the happiness wash through her. "Thank you," she said. She turned to embrace him, but he held up a finger.

"If we're going to do this right, we have to establish a few ground rules," he said. "First of all, what you'll call me. Let's see… I hate the word sensei… master is too pretentious… how about just 'sir'? Try it out."

"Yes, sir," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, I could get used to that. It works. Obviously you'll be coming with us to the village. You have to promise to follow my instructions in all things. This isn't family fun time; this is serious business we're getting into."

"Oh, absolutely! Sir," she added.

He jerked his head in the direction of the room. "Alright, Amy, let's head back to the room."

"Yes, sir," she said, as happy now as she'd been angry before. Amy didn't do emotions half-way.

"Who knows?" said Sonic. "Maybe we'll get back before the rumors really get going."

It was entirely too late for that.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: The Oldest Friend<em>


	5. The Oldest Friend

In the morning, there was an unexpected boon. The innkeeper had bought all sorts of food that traveled well—cheeses, smoked fish, pickled meats and vegetables, sealed in wax as appropriate, all in convenient knapsacks. When Kenji asked him what it was for, he simply said he thought they deserved it after all the trouble they'd gone through. He didn't mention that he'd bought the supplies using some of the profits he'd made overcharging them for the room. The gesture assuaged his conscience and let him pocket the rest without guilt. The peasants weren't about to question their good fortune, and it lifted the spirits of the warriors, as well.

A few of the warriors carried extra bundles. "What's in your big sack?" Rouge asked Knuckles. Over his shoulder, Knuckles carried a large burlap bag. The contents of it clanked gently when it shifted.

"None of your business," Knuckles said. "I haven't even decided to use it."

"Use it or lose it, boy."

"Are you able to speak without innuendo, or are you permanently perverse?"

"Of course you'd think it was perverse. I bet you're a virgin."

"That's none of your business, either."

Amy carried a large mallet. She was bursting at the seams to explain why, but no one asked.

When they were all outside the inn, Sonic took a few steps in the opposite direction from the village. "I've gotta make a bit of a trip, but I cover ground quickly. I'll try and catch you before you get back to the village. If you get back before me, stay put, and I'll be there shortly."

"Where are you going, sir?" asked Amy.

"Gotta pick up my old wife. Take care!" He set off through the early-morning crowd.

"His old wife?" said Amy. "I didn't figure him for a married man."

"What's wrong?" taunted Rouge. "Are you jealous? Does this put him off-limits?"

"N-no," said Amy, blushing furiously. "It's not like that at all."

Knuckles laughed loudly. "Rouge, you are smart about some things, but about others, you're shockingly ignorant."

"Like what?" she said, bristling.

"Sonic's not married. "Old wife" is a veteran soldier's joke. Some militaries used to train their soldiers to fight in pairs. After a few campaigns, if both of them were still alive, they were jokingly called husband and wife. At that point, the gag went, they'd lived together long enough for a common law marriage. I know this disappoints you, but there's no sex involved."

"It's nothing to me," said Rouge. "I'm not the one who gets all drooly over blue boy, hm?" She looked at Amy again, and her blush intensified.

Knuckles chuckled. "I wonder what it would take to make you 'drooly'."

Rouge gave Knuckles a toothy grin. "You can't afford that information."

Vector rolled his eyes. "Sheesh, you're teenagers, every one of you! C'mon, are we gonna save this village or what? Get a move on!"

* * *

><p>Sonic had been modest before. Horses didn't cover ground like he did. His destination was close to the next big town, a trip that might have taken the peasants days and days, assuming no muggings. He made it right at nightfall. Highwaymen gave him no trouble.<p>

He strolled along the outside of a large building. Its marquee declared, "Lava Reef Bath House: The Hottest Baths You'll Find Outside of Volcanoes!" It had a gaudy décor, three stories, and maybe a dozen rooms. Wrap-around porches and balconies allowed attendants to get to any room from the outside. It was well-lit and inviting and, as far as Sonic could tell, busy. Even outside of it, Sonic could hear the buzz of conversation and the ringing of laughter.

After circling the place to take it all in, Sonic stood across the street for a few minutes, watching and listening. It was polite not to rush things.

Eventually a girl came out onto the front porch. Sonic thought of her as girl, though she might have been out of her teens. She wore a traditional old kimono and was moving about on her knees. She was a rabbit; her long, floppy ears were draped down her back. She was cute as a button normally, but her expression was unnaturally stiff.

"Welcome to the Lava Reef Bath House," she called to Sonic.

"I'm not a customer," he called back. He walked towards the porch nonetheless.

She waited until he was close and she could speak more quietly. "I saw you loitering around."

"It's a public street."

"I know who you are."

"Really?"

"You're Sonic Hedgehog."

Sonic blinked in surprise. "Well, I guess it's neat to be recognized."

"Master Tails speaks of you often. I couldn't not recognize you."

"I'm just happy he remembers me."

"You're not welcome here."

Sonic rubbed a finger along his chin. "Is that right?" he said.

"That's right."

"Is that what Master Tails said?"

He could see her hands clench the folds of her kimono. "I want to make sure Master Tails is happy," she said. "That means you're not welcome."

Sonic shrugged. "The last thing I want to do is make Tails unhappy. He means too much to me."

"Then why are you here?"

"I just wanted to catch up with an old friend."

"You're lying."

"Not really."

"You're here to take Master Tails away," she accused.

He smiled. "Lady, I have never in my life taken Tails anywhere."

"Then you're here to get him to leave."

Sonic said nothing.

"Master Tails is happy here," she insisted. "He doesn't need you. You're a part of his past life."

"I'm glad he's happy."

"If you're telling the truth, then stay away!"

"Why should I? Why am I so threatening?"

"You don't belong here. You're… a memory. A phantom. A reminder of a very painful part of Master Tails' life—a life he left behind."

"Ah," said Sonic, "that's where you're wrong. He and I never stopped being friends. That's something that'll last forever."

"Master Tails doesn't need friends like you," she said hotly.

"You're very loyal to him," Sonic observed.

"Master Tails built this place out of nothing," she said. "And in the process, he gave jobs to a dozen girls who had no family or dowry or future. We owe him everything. That's why I can't stand to see you there."

"So that's it. You're not afraid I'll take Tails away. You're afraid I'll take him away… from you."

"That's not true at all!" she shouted. "I don't want to see Master Tails hurt again!"

Sonic didn't answer this time.

"Sometimes, Master Tails talks to us," she elaborated. "He talks about where he's been, and the things he's done. He's always smiling when he does. But there's a hurt there that won't go away. It's a wound that'll never heal. His time with you has damaged him, Sonic Hedgehog. I don't want that to happen to him again."

"Tails is stronger than you know."

"What do you know about it?"

"He's my old wife," Sonic said. "My true friend."

"You keep saying that, but it rings false. If you were such good friends, why did you split up? Why has it been months since you've seen each other?"

Sonic shrugged. "At the end of our last campaign, we talked about the next step. I wanted to look around some, see what I needed to see of the world. He wanted to try and build something. We agreed to take separate paths for a while."

"For a while…"

"Yes."

"Why couldn't it be forever?"

"It was never going to be forever. Because when we left, we each made sure we had a way to contact the other. And we promised…" he jerked his head at the bathhouse. "At the rate he's going, how long before that place is paid off? Two years and change?"

She blushed.

"That's the thing. We promised, if nothing else happened, that at the end of three years we'd hit the road again." He smiled. "I know you care for Tails. Maybe you were hoping you could get him to stay forever. But that's not what he is."

"I hate you, Sonic Hedgehog!" she said.

He was taken aback. "Why's that?"

There were tears in her eyes. "Because he loves you more than he ever loved any of us," she said. "Because he loves you more than he loves all he did for himself."

He sighed. "I'm sorry this causes you pain," he said. "But I can promise you this. Somewhere in there, Tails has paperwork drawn up that'll transfer ownership to you and the other girls after a certain amount of time. He's kind like that."

"That's what makes this so hard!" she said. "He's so kind, so pure, so… creative and smart and funny and sweet… to think he tied his fate to you, of all people…"

"I don't understand it, myself," said Sonic. "People are crazy."

"Please go away," she said. "Master Tails has a good life here. He's happy, surrounded by people who care for him. It's a better life than he's ever known. Why would you take that away from him?"

He shook his head. "You're asking the wrong question. You have been the whole time. You still think that I'm somehow going to force him to leave. And that's not how it works."

She sat there, facing him, utterly defeated, crying openly. Still he made no move to go towards the bathhouse. If he had, she could have stopped him, maybe. Intervened in some fashion. Or at least been justified in thinking he was a usurper. But he didn't. He was so sure that events would come to him. Which meant that maybe he was being truthful after all. Maybe that was how he and Tails worked.

She wiped her eyes. "I don't actually hate you," she said. "I didn't mean that."

"I'm glad."

"I wish I did," she said. "I really do. But I can't. It's the strangest thing, isn't it?"

"It would be a lot easier if you could hate me, wouldn't it?"

She nodded. "Yes… yes. But… if Master Tails loves you so much, then I can't hate you, can I? Because then I'd be hating a part of Master Tails."

The door slid open. "What's that, Cream?" said Tails.

"Master Tails," she gasped.

Tails had grown to be slightly taller than Sonic over the years. His namesake two tails twitched and flicked of their own accord, like they shared some of their owner's intelligence. He was bright orange, with white fur on his belly and face. He was wearing orange-and-white yukata robes—not as formal as the kimonos his attendants wore, but still a consciously traditional style. He was in his mid-20s, though telling his exact age would have befuddled most. His blue eyes had seen much, but retained some youthful features. He still looked like he needed to fill out a teenager's growth spurt. Yet, much like Sonic, he felt far older than he was.

His eyes wandered a moment, spotted Sonic. His face lit up in a smile. "Sonic! Look at you, what a surprise!"

"You know me," said Sonic, matching his friend's smile. "I only show up when I'm not expected."

"I wasn't expecting you today, for sure. Don't just stand there out in the cold, come on up here! Cream," he said, looking down at the rabbit girl, "this is Sonic, my oldest and best friend."

"I—I was just talking to him, Master Tails," she said.

"Were you, now? Good, good! I like for my friends to like each other."

Cream bit her lip slightly. She didn't want to tell Tails that he was expecting entirely too much.

"Sonic, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

"You're telling me, Tails. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"My room is on the third floor. Cream, we'll take some tea."

"Of course, Master Tails."

"Come on, Sonic, lemme show you my digs!"

Sonic laughed. "Heh. Do you talk like that all the time? Or is it just me that makes you talk like it's fifteen years ago?"

"A little of both," said Tails, grinning. "Actually, it's excitement. I don't get to show off a lot. When I'm talking to clients, I have to speak like my arrangements here are the norm. It reminds them that they aren't."

They walked up the two flights of stairs to Tails' room. Along the way, Sonic noticed most of the guest rooms were occupied. Here and there, kimono-clad attendants scuttled along the hallways. "Nice girls," Sonic said.

Tails looked embarrassed. "I guess it looks like I've got some kind of harem built up, huh?"

"I'm sure you've been a perfect gentleman."

"That's one of the best parts of this job, actually. When the girls realize that I'm not the kind of boss who wants a little extra on the side. When they realize I mean it when I tell them that, when they're serving clients, the kimono's supposed to stay on."

Sonic laughed. "You always go all-out, don't you?"

"Yep! That's just how I do things."

Tails' room was smaller than most. A low table took up the center of the room. Along one wall was a single-sized mat; along another was a small desk with writing implements and papers strewn across its surface; resting by the third was a large wooden case with a very heavy, solid lock. On the wall above it was a large schematic diagram, hand drawn by Tails himself, of the building.

"This is some place you've got," said Sonic.

"I'm pretty proud of it," said Tails modestly.

"I didn't see furnaces or fireplaces anywhere. How do you get all the baths so hot?"

Tails' eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh boy, I've been waiting _forever_ to tell you. Check this out." He pointed on the schematic to a part that was below ground. "This was an abandoned building when I got here. I knew I wanted to do something with it, but I didn't know what. When I was doing my survey, I found… this."

"What is it?"

"Not sure, exactly. Maybe an old reactor still spewing out waste heat. Maybe it's a crack in the planet's crust from all the fighting. The point is, it's a heat source. For all intents and purposes, an unlimited heat source."

"I'm with you so far."

"Put a water tank above that and you've got hot water, perfect for baths. But how do you get it to the tubs? There are no pumps anymore. People can't build machinery, and even if they could, how would you power it?"

Sonic nodded. That was one of Tails' biggest complaints these days—he could imagine building all sorts of machines, but getting them built, or powering them once built, was impossible. The rest of the world had failed Tails. It couldn't support his vision.

"So I had to use a much simpler method. You know how hot air rises and cold air sinks, right?"

"Right."

"Same with water. So what I did was I rigged up the piping system so that the water circulates naturally. The hot water goes all the way up—large pipes, straight pipes, low resistance to flow. It heats the top-floor baths. Then it just falls down the building like rapids in a river—the next floor baths are cooler, the bottom floor merely warm, and then it returns to the main tank."

"How do you make sure it flows the way you want it to?"

"It's just a matter of resistance to flow. I built it so it's easier to flow the way I want it to than the other way. Plus there's a check valve in the system, here… a one-way valve. Flow in one direction opens it, flow the other way closes it. The water always goes where it's supposed to."

"I bet it makes the tubs hard to clean."

"Every room has an extra bit of pipe that bypasses the tub. Turn a valve, and the water goes through the bypass instead of the tub."

Sonic laughed. "You thought of everything!"

"I told you already," said Tails, "I don't do things halfway!"

"No, no you don't. You must have only just gotten this place running."

"Yeah, it was a big job. But there were plenty of people who were willing to help, for a piece of the action. My part of the profit is pretty darn small. And I hired people no one else wanted." He shrugged. "The fact that you gave me every scrap of money we'd earned together helped, too."

"I wasn't using it for much," said Sonic. "I can take care of myself."

"Heh. If that were true, you wouldn't be here today, would you?" Tails was still smiling; the words were friendly, not accusatory. Sonic couldn't help but smile in return. Whatever else might be said about Sonic and Tails, they genuinely enjoyed each other's company. That they were so mismatched seemed only to add to the affection. "So, where are we headed?"

"What are you talking about? I'm just visiting here with my best friend."

Tails rolled his eyes. "Stop talking out your ass, okay?"

Sonic blinked, then laughed. "When did my little Tails get such a potty-mouth?"

Tails laughed in turn. "I haven't been "little Tails" for years, idiot! Honestly, sometimes you kill me. You think people don't change. I grew up, and you still think I'm just the cute kid tagalong."

"You're still such a cutie-pie," teased Sonic. He pinched Tails' cheek.

"Watch out," said Tails, though he was grinning and let Sonic do it. "I might have to kick your blue butt for that."

"That Cream girl's a real keeper."

"Is she?" said Tails. "I suppose so. She works harder than any of the others. She's clever. Always knows the right thing to say. Sweet, too."

"Sweet on you, you mean."

"Is she?" Tails looked surprised at the prospect.

Sonic laughed. "Tails, you're smart and perceptive like no one I've ever known. But you have a huuuuge blind spot for the female race."

Tails gave Sonic a playful shove. "Says Knight Sonic, the perpetual bachelor!"

"By choice, as you know perfectly well. Just one of the ways we're different. You could probably manage the whole settle-down family-guy thing, if you wanted to."

"And you couldn't?"

"You said it already. That was never in the cards for me."

Tails considered that for a moment. "I hadn't thought about it," he admitted.

"Give it a thought, sometime."

"I will. But not now. We've got some ground to cover, I'm sure."

Sonic hesitated. "I wouldn't want to pull you away from this life," he said. "Not after everything you've put into it."

"Sonic, you're not. You know that. You know I'd always help you out. That's why you came, isn't it?" He nodded. "You came here to get me, because you knew I'd come with you, no matter what it was."

"I am sorry, if it helps," said Sonic. "It's like I only ever call you in on the hardest stuff, the most dangerous stuff."

"It's flattering, I suppose. I know I'm the one you trust the most."

"And it's kind of shameful that I can never help you out the way you help me out."

"That's not the point, is it?" Tails gave Sonic a penetrating look. Sonic actually took a step back—he hadn't experienced this from Tails before. "This friendship we have… it's okay if it's usually me helping you. It doesn't bother me. Because the point isn't that we're trading favors back and forth—that isn't friendship, that's business. The point is that we're willing to help whenever the other needs it, no questions asked."

Sonic laughed nervously. "You're such a deep thinker, compared to me," he said.

"Sonic," said Tails, his face serious, "we're friends because I believe that you would do *anything* I asked you to do. I truly believe that, in my heart of hearts."

Sonic blinked, his face blank. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tails smiled. "It just so happens that most of the things I need help with, you're bad at. Like this place! You'd have been worse than useless building this place. You couldn't do this engineering in a hundred years."

"Hey, a hundred years is a long time," Sonic said, his humor returning. "Gimme fifty years and I could hang with you, I think."

"Ha! You wish. So, where are we going?"

"I'll tell you later. We're in a bit of a hurry, now that you mention it."

"And you let me ramble on all that time about natural circulation! You're impossible."

"Don't sweat it. If my guess is good, we'll still get there right on time, if we leave tonight."

Tails nodded. "I'll pack some essentials." He stood and walked over to the chest. He withdrew a key from the folds of his robe, but ignored the heavy lock on the front. Instead he closed his eyes and slid his fingers across the top of the chest. By touch alone he found an inconspicuous knot and slid it aside, then put the key into the hole concealed beneath.

"Niiiice," said Sonic. "That's smart."

"I can't say it was an original idea," said Tails, "but it's been worth every bit of the exorbitant fee I paid for it. Thwarted three break-ins already." He began to withdraw items from the chest.

"By the way," said Sonic, "I think we've got some tea waiting… right, Cream?"

Cream hurriedly slid open the door. "Your tea, Master Tails," she said with a blush. Her eyes were red and puffy from recently-shed tears.

"Hm? Oh, right. Thanks." Sonic couldn't tell who was more embarrassed, Tails or Cream. Tails' tails were quivering uncontrollably, while Cream's face had turned scarlet. She put the tea tray on the center table. Her hands shook so much she nearly spilled it.

"Cream…" Tails began. "There's… a letter I want you to see. It concerns what to do if I'm not back in three months."

"Master Tails!" Cream sobbed. She rushed into his arms. He cradled her gently. The look on his face mixed confusion and panic with manic excitement.

Sonic discreetly let himself out of the room. He went outside, to the front of the bathhouse, and waited.

Five minutes. He started to whistle tunelessly.

Ten minutes. He started to pace.

Fifteen minutes. He started to wonder.

Tails finally exited to join his friend. He'd changed into practical travel clothes. He carried a backpack that had a long horizontal piece across his shoulders.

"So," Sonic asked, "how was she?"

Tails' face went ashen. "Nothing happened," he said hurriedly. "It's not anything like that at all! I had to… well, calm her down, first, and then give her instructions on how to run the place while I was gone."

"Like how to put your key into the treasure chest?"

"Yeah, like… oh, you're such a jerk!"

Sonic laughed. "I'm sure you were a perfect gentleman."

Cream's head appeared from above the third floor balcony. "If you don't bring Master Tails home, Sonic Hedgehog, I'll never forgive you!"

He gave her a mock salute, then began walking away. "She's a keeper, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Tails languidly, "she sure is."

Sonic glanced at his friend and smiled. "Though if you hadn't been a gentleman, I'd get it."

"Hm? Oh. Right."

"But you needed to be."

"Yup."

"For her sake, really. In case you didn't come back."

"Uh-huh."

"Still… she is a cutie."

"Yeah…" and Tails sighed.

"Enough of that," said Sonic brightly. "We've got some serious ground to cover!"

Tails rose up out of his trance. "I was waiting on you to lead the way."

"Can you still keep up? You don't have a plane to help you out, this time."

Tails grinned. "Sonic, I've been chasing after you since I was ten years old. I can keep up."

"Then let's go!"

Sonic set the pace, and the two of them ran off into the night.

* * *

><p><em>With the players gathered, the second act now begins. Next time: Flawed Judgement<em>


	6. Flawed Judgment

ACT TWO: PREPARATION

* * *

><p>The peasants and warriors continued on the road. The peasants promised that their village was just past the next bend. It couldn't come quickly enough for Amy.<p>

"Will you give it a rest!" she shouted over her shoulder. Knuckles and Rouge looked back at her. "You've been bickering non-stop for days! It's making me insane!"

"See that, Rouge?" said Knuckles. "You're driving her batty!"

She crossed her arms. "Hmph! Only because "echidna-ey" is too hard to say. Who ever heard of an echidna, anyway?"

There was only so much a person could take. Amy began to heft her mallet… and gasped. "It's Sonic!"

The whole party stopped to look behind. Sure enough, there was Sonic, with Tails hot on his heels. They were running at a pace Amy couldn't have sustained, and that many of the others could never have achieved. Amy cheered as they approached; the peasants and Vector joined in. They padded to a halt in the middle of the group. They were breathing heavily, but seemed to have energy enough for another couple hours' run. "How about that, Tails?" said Sonic. "Was my guess good or what? We're right on schedule!"

Tails scoffed. "And we'd have been early if you hadn't insisted on running late that night and got us lost."

Sonic laughed and placed his hands on his knees. He gave Amy a stage-whisper. "Hey, Amy. Free tip. It's cool to have friends smarter than you are, but if you do, you're never allowed to make a mistake. Ever."

There was a flash of light—a streak across the party's vision as the sun reflected off of traveling metal-

CLANG!

Amy blinked hard. When her vision cleared, she saw two katana crossed, their owners straining and testing the other. Shadow's sword was extended away from him in a horizontal stroke; Sonic's was held single-handedly, tip-down in a block. The blades were locked against each other, unmoving.

Shadow abruptly withdrew and re-sheathed his sword. "Your travel hasn't weakened you," said Shadow. "Good."

"Heh… we aren't expecting the bandits for another few weeks, Shadow."

"Oh?" Shadow turned away and resumed walking for the village.

"Hmph," said Knuckles. "He knew we wouldn't be fighting soon. He just wanted to get the free swing in."

Sonic replaced his sword. "Kinda keeps it interesting."

Tails finally closed his mouth. "Sonic, you always find the weirdest friends."

"You're one to talk. Goes with the territory, I guess. Come on, everyone, let's introduce ourselves."

Introducing themselves would have required the villagers to not be hiding.

The villagers had retreated from the fields into their homes. No one presented themselves as the party moved into the middle of the village. The warriors felt that they were being watched. Wherever they turned, they saw eyes, but no bodies. Peasants were looking at them from around doors, or through windows, or from behind buildings. None were willing to show themselves.

Kenji got angrier and angrier the further they went.

It's sometimes said that Rouge was thoughtlessly, instinctively arrogant. That is true, to an extent. Some of her jobs required a more deft touch. She had to know how to wheedle and ingratiate herself with words alone. Over time she'd gotten quite good at it. So when she resolved to insult the peasant village, it wasn't because she didn't know better.

"This place makes Akemo look like the height of civilization."

Rouge closed her mouth in confusion. That hadn't been her voice. She shook her head and looked at Knuckles. His expression was gruff and dissatisfied. "You said it," she said to him, "but I was thinking it." He grunted back to her.

Kenji stopped; the party behind him shambled to a halt. "What kind of greeting is this?" he hollered. "We've brought you warriors. Seven of them! Seven warriors to save our village! What do you say to that, huh?"

No one answered him.

"I said, we've brought the warriors to kill the bandits!" Kenji shouted.

"But warriors are bandits," said one anonymous voice.

"And bandits are warriors!" cried another.

Amy and Vector got visibly angrier. Knuckles and Rouge were exasperated. Only Shadow seemed bored with the proceedings. He gave off the strong impression that, if they let him, he'd fall asleep standing up.

"What kind of a welcome is this?" hollered Kenji. "These warriors are gonna stake their lives on our village and this is how you show your gratitude?"

"Koji," said Sonic, "we'd better see the sensei you talked about. Shouting isn't getting us anywhere."

"Right," said Koji. "Kenji? Hey, Kenji?"

"What?"

"We need to go see sensei. He'll know what to do."

Kenji struggled to swallow his temper. Sonic's expectant stare accelerated the process. "Okay. This way. During the day sensei stays in the main hall."

Sonic and Tails shared a look. They didn't need more—the look was enough. In their private language, they'd expressed the same thought: "This is enemy territory."

Not even sensei greeted them as a friend.

"Sensei!" shouted Kenji. He rushed forward into the hall. Sensei was lying on a mat under a blanket; one of the village women was attending to him.

"Ken…ji… is that you, Kenji?"

"We're here, sensei!" said Koji. The two peasants rushed forwards. They knelt by sensei's side. "Sensei, what happened?"

"I'm old, boys. I know you find that hard to understand…" he tried to chuckle but it came out as a hacking cough. "Normal sicknesses… that you would brush off… are a lot harder at this age."

"Is there anything we can do for you, sensei?" said Kenji.

"Yes, actually. Did you…" he tried to rise up some from the mat; the woman pushed him back down, gently but firmly. "Did you bring warriors?"

"We did, sensei," said Koji. "Seven warriors."

"Seven?" Sensei's eyes widened, and then he relaxed back down onto the mat. "Seven warriors… more than I could have imagined… you've done well, the three of you. Very well. We might just… live through this… after all…"

"Sensei!" said Kenji.

The woman elbowed the men out of the way. "It's just exhaustion," she said. "All this excitement was too much for him right now. I'm amazed he was able to talk as much as he did. Most days he sleeps through."

"But we need his help," said Kenji pleadingly.

"Then talk to Ichiro. He's been talking a lot with sensei, he pretty much runs things now."

Koji frowned. "Ichiro? I always thought of him as the permanent assistant."

"Well, no one else was stepping up while sensei was ill, so he filled in."

Koji glanced back at the warriors. "Kenji," he said, "stay with our guests. I'll talk to Ichiro. I'm guessing they'll need to stay in here, given their… you know."

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm sure you're right." Kenji could barely take his eyes off of sensei.

Koji walked past the warriors to the door. "Thank all of you for coming," he said before he exited. "I'm going to see about your arrangements."

Rouge sighed in exasperation. "So, this village is even more rustic than we thought, its people don't want us here, its leader is out of commission, and no one trusts the number two guy. Nice place."

Vector lay down, clutching his spear beside him. "Yeah, it'd be even nicer if we were the good guys."

* * *

><p>Shadow didn't particularly care where he slept. When Koji returned and told them they'd be staying in one of the smaller storage buildings, it didn't bother him the way it bothered some. The only things that caught his notice were that the building had two doors whereas most of the others had only one, and that the "doors" were little more than top-hanging screens.<p>

Shadow settled in a corner while everyone else was still standing and figuring out who went where. Shadow had long since discovered that picking his own place, making it reasonably small but nonnegotiable, was the best way for all involved. After all, it didn't really matter. He settled his spine against the corner, tilting his head up, and rested his sword in the crook of his left arm, its hilt up against his shoulder.

He closed his eyes while they bickered and talked and finally began to settle down. He didn't sleep. For Shadow, closing his eyes was rarely a restful experience. The inside of his eyelids functioned like a projector for his analytic mind.

Rouge had walked strangely; her stride seemed like it would be uncomfortable if used for long periods. It had to be her boots. They weren't made for walking, necessarily. They were a threat. Her kicks were to be avoided.

Not feared, just avoided. Fear was alien to a creature with unshakeable self-confidence and a perfect winning record.

What was Tails' weapon? He'd been classified as a warrior, so he carried something. He had the build for a polearm but that clearly wasn't it. The horizontal part of his luggage was long enough for many types of sword, but why carry it like that when a scabbard was so much more convenient? He merited observation.

Sonic's block of Shadow's surprise attack had been perfect. Shadow replayed it inside his mind, over and over. Was there anything Shadow could have done to slip inside that guard? No; Shadow had given no warning, and he'd struck with all his skill. Was there, perhaps, some refinement of his technique that would give him the extra edge? Shadow evaluated each piece of his blow, and came to the conclusion that it was without flaw. Sonic had been fast enough to block it, all the same. This made Shadow happy. It was an emotion he felt very rarely. If Sonic could block that attack, then he'd be a worthy opponent when they fought for real. Shadow relished the thought. That the battle with the bandits stood between him and that goal was of no consequence. Fighting while heavily outnumbered was interesting in its way; Shadow had done it before, though never at these odds. But it didn't fascinate Shadow or captivate his imagination the way a duel with Sonic did. He couldn't wait, he felt eagerness for it, he felt—

Something was wrong.

Shadow opened his eyes slightly.

The room was dark. He heard the heavy breathing of several people—the warriors and their peasant helpers, no doubt. They'd all gone to sleep while he wasn't paying attention.

Some breathing was from someone not asleep. It was ragged—nervous, guilty perhaps. Where was it? There… a moonlit shadow. There… the shuffling of cloth as someone stepped lightly over a body, trying so very hard not to be seen or heard.

If they'd have been going elsewhere, Shadow might not have said or done anything about it. But of the two intruders, one was approaching Shadow. The intruder began to reach towards Shadow's sword. He would not abide that.

He waited until the intruder's hand was ever-so-close, too close for deniability, before he moved. The sword glowed in the moonlight as the blade cleaved the night air. It came to a stop with the point between the intruder's eyes—if he'd continued the stroke it would have cleaved the intruder's nostrils.

"Don't move," he said, unnecessarily.

On the other side of the room, there was a flurry of motion. The intruder's cries of pain split the night. "Ah—woah—owowowlemmegooooo!"

"What's happening?" roared Vector. He came to his feet, knocking into most of the room's population in the process.

"Just a couple of amateurs," said Rouge, over repeated calls of "IgiveIgiveIgiveIgive…"

Vector grabbed a hold of the intruder before Shadow. Shadow took the opportunity to sheathe his sword. "I'll just hold on to this one," said Vector. "Hey, Kenji, get some light. We've got a mystery to solve."

"Of course," said Kenji. He scrambled out of the room.

"Rouge, if you keep him like that, you'll break his arm," said Knuckles.

"Why do you think I put him there?"

"It was just an observation."

Kenji returned with a torch. The sudden light hurt everyone's eyes and revealed what they had feared—the intruders were some of the villagers. Rouge had the second intruder in an unorthodox armbar. Shadow nodded. Of course it would be her. Aside from himself, she was the only one used to operating alone—the only one whose life depended entirely on her own alertness. She would have trained senses and a paranoia bordering on neurosis.

Like him.

"Let's take this outside," said Sonic. "We need some answers. Rouge, let him up."

"And I was looking forward to hearing those bones break… oh, alright." She released the peasant; Knuckles grabbed him, put him in a bear hug, and lifted him off the ground like he was a stuffed toy. Rouge licked her lips theatrically. "Did you know that the radius and ulna make different pitched noises when they break?"

Knuckles shook his head. "I usually break them all at once. Come on."

They placed the intruders side-by-side outside the building. Vector kept one massive hand on each of them to remind them to stay still. Sonic walked in front of them and knelt. He wore neither his sword nor his gloves.

"What were you doing?" he asked them.

They said nothing. They were shaking. Their lips quivered and their heads hung. One of them seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Why did you come in here tonight?"

One of them shook his head vigorously.

"I promise not to hurt you," said Sonic. "No matter what you say, you have my word that no one will hurt you."

They looked up at him.

"I don't break my promises. You have my word as a Knight. I won't hurt you no matter what you say. All I want is the truth. It's very important. I won't know what to do unless I know."

More and more of the village was stirring, drawn by the light and the noise, but Sonic kept his back to them. The other warriors formed a perimeter to keep the peasants clear.

"Why did you come here?"

"T-t-take your weapons," said one of them.

"I figured as much. See, that wasn't so hard."

The peasants looked relieved now that they'd said something.

"Was it because you were afraid of us? No… look at you, you're terrified, even now. Did someone put you up to this?"

Sonic looked them in the eyes. His expression was full of concern and care. They couldn't stand up to it. They hung their heads again. "Ichiro," said one.

"What was that?"

"I-Ichiro told us to… to take your weapons, while you were asleep."

"He said we needed to f-f-for the sake of the village," added the other.

Sonic nodded while maintaining eye contact. "Tails?"

"All over it," he replied. He broke out of the perimeter. He remembered where Koji said Ichiro lived. If he was still there…

Sonic gave the peasants a sympathetic look. "I feel sorry for you. It wasn't your decision, was it? It's not your fault, it's Ichiro's. Remember that." He extended a hand towards each of them. "Come on. Up and at 'em. We have no reason to hold you two. No hard feelings."

"I have hard feelings," said Knuckles. "Stinking sneak-thieves…"

Sonic gave him a hard look. Knuckles let his voice die out. Sonic helped the two peasants to their feet. "Here you go," he said. "Go back to your families." He walked with them past the other warriors and let them enter the village crowd.

"We came because bandits are hurting you," said Sonic to the group. "And now you tried to hurt us, like you were bandits yourselves."

"You're the bandits," said a voice in the crowd, but without much conviction.

Vector advanced until he stood between the warriors and the peasants. "Huh. And you're peasants, alright. Quick to take advantage of any kindness. Any time someone shows you even a moment's goodness, you gobble it up, fast as you can!"

"Vector," said Amy, but the crocodile would not be stopped.

"Just like peasants everywhere. Of course you can't tell the difference between bandits and real warriors. To you, they're all just guys with weapons. It's because you spend all your time staring at the dirt! You never look up and see how things actually are. And when you look down all the time, all you see is dirt. But you…" he snapped his jaws; it must have been a gesture of disgust. "…you'd have to look UP to see dirt!"

The crowd grew restive. "Vector, stop," hissed Amy. She took a step forward, but Sonic extended an arm across her, warning her off. She gave him a look. He did not respond, but kept his eyes on Vector.

"You all say share and share alike, right?" Vector rambled on. "I know all about how you give out your rations of food, and each person gets to use the best tools some days and not others, and how you give special allowances for kids and grannies… but it's all a sham. I've been here all of a day, and I know that everyone's hiding their best stuff.

"That hut's hiding a bottle of sake," he said, pointing. The crowd murmured. "In that one, there's an extra parcel of rice. In that one, a whole smoked fish. And in here…" Vector pointed behind him, "…someone stupidly tried to hide a _book_!"

The crowd rustled and babbled like a gaggle of geese.

"Every one of you's hiding something," he said. "Share… ha! Share and someone else'll take it, and he won't share, right? Of course not! So you grab all you can, hold on to it, hide it, just don't let anyone know it's there… and if someone else needs help, well, that's really too bad, but I need to keep a hold of this in case I get in trouble… it's all about me, me, me… you make me sick!"

He snapped his jaws again. "I hate peasants! Hate them! Always blaming each other, always trying to grab the best, always looking out for themselves and no one else… I hate them, but I can't blame 'em… 'cause warriors made 'em that way!"

He collapsed to the ground. "Those… those damn warriors… they used everything for war. They used all the strength there was. People gave everything they had to fight those wars, and the war burned it all up like fuel, and then tried to burn the rest… and… and when the city was all used up, and there was nothing left but one stone lying on another… a warrior took the last stone… to use as a club! So you can't blame the… the peasants for being… self-centered and selfish… what did helping other people ever do for them? Where did it get this world, anyway?"

Tears streamed down Vector's face, and no one could doubt their authenticity. "Damn it all! I'll show 'em! I swear, I'll show 'em! It didn't have to be like this! It… it still doesn't! Not all warriors are like that! People can do better, I know they can… damn it!"

Sonic walked forward. He placed a gentle hand on Vector's shoulder. The crocodile started, then relaxed. The sobbing continued. "You were a cop before the wars, weren't you?" asked Sonic.

"P-I," corrected Vector. "Private investigator. You… you never see people at their best, in that business… everyone's a bad guy, everyone's got an… an agenda… my c-country had strict laws on who could carry weapons… not that it mattered a damn when the end came… the ones who had weapons got the best of everything…"

"It's okay, Vector. I understand. Amy? Let's help him up."

"Sonic!"

Sonic turned. Tails was approaching. Ichiro was in front of him, huffing and puffing and generally indignant. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Where'd you find him?" Sonic asked Tails.

"Hiding in a storeroom," Tails said.

"I told you, I was doing an inventory," Ichiro insisted.

"In total darkness?"

"I put out my light when I heard you approaching, I panicked!"

"Oh, you panicked alright."

"Ichiro," said Sonic, "there was an incident tonight."

Ichiro straightened himself a bit—a futile gesture. He was naturally stooped, so trying to straighten just made his pelvis stick out. "What kind of incident?"

"There was a break-in. Someone wanted to take our weapons."

The corner of Ichiro's mouth twitched. "I assume you caught the criminals?"

"Of course."

"Then if it satisfies you, I'll see that they're punished," said Ichiro.

"You monster!"

The two intruders broke to the front of the crowd.

"You told us to do it!"

"You demanded we steal their weapons!"

Ichiro became flustered immediately. "I thought I told you…" he broke off.

"Told them _what_, exactly?" said Sonic.

Ichiro had panicked before; he panicked again. Sweat broke across his brow instantly. He began to move away from Tails, but Tails snagged his arms with a surprisingly strong grip. The crowd pressed in, its shouting angry and indignant.

"Please, don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" pleaded Ichiro, though to whom he was speaking was unclear.

Sonic stepped in front of Ichiro and raised his hands to quiet the crowd down. He turned around. His face would have chipped a razor. "You have precisely one chance to explain yourself," said Sonic. His tone of voice was firm. It filled the mind with the notion that disobeying would be the last choice made.

"I didn't know what else to do!" Ichiro squealed. "The… people were worried, said they felt talked into hiring you in the first place… and with the bandits coming tomorrow, well, I'd hoped you wouldn't be back by then, but when you were…"

"Tomorrow?" said Sonic. The crowd alternately gasped, screamed, or maintained fretful silence.

"Just a check-up," Ichiro said. "A small group… I'd hoped it wouldn't matter… but then, you were here… and I knew we couldn't fight, not yet…"

"I see where this is going," said Sonic. "You thought you'd steal our weapons and sell them to the bandits. And us, right?"

Ichiro visibly swallowed. "I th-th-thought that maybe if you had valuables, the… the bandits might reduce our tribute payment… so we'd survive, after all…"

"You're despicable!" shouted Amy. The crowd voiced its agreement.

"Y-y-you don't understand," said Ichiro. His nerve had completely failed him. "I didn't know what to do! But I had to do something! Sensei and I hadn't talked about this, and he was ill! What would you have done?"

Sonic rose to his full height and took a step back. "I would have solved it," said Sonic. "We could have dealt with this, if you'd told us. But noooo, you thought you knew how to fight."

"I'm, I'm sorry, I thought… I mean…"

Sonic held up a finger to silence him. It worked. "Ichiro, in your own way, you love the village. You were trying to do what you thought was best. You're just an untrustworthy idiot. If I were a peasant, I wouldn't want you in charge."

"He's not!" hollered Koji. "He was standing in for sensei!"

"Not anymore he's not!" shouted someone in the crowd. It picked up the idea quickly.

Sonic nodded. "Then you'll need someone else in charge until sensei gets better."

"I nominate Sonic!" shouted Kenji.

"Yes, Sonic!" shouted the would-be thieves.

The crowd roared its approval.

Sonic nodded. "I don't know you people. And I don't know farming at all. I only know war. So, if you'll have me, I'll lead you to war. But I'll need lots of help. Ichiro knows all of you, he knows how to make things work. I'll use Ichiro as my helper." He turned to Ichiro. "Is that fair, Ichiro?"

Ichiro looked like a prisoner who, at the point of execution, is told that he's been freed and also won the lottery. "More than fair," he blubbered.

Sonic turned back to the crowd. "Fair?" he said.

Assent.

"Then everyone needs to get back to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."

The people began to disperse. Sonic stood in the middle of the crowd, answering the occasional question and providing words of encouragement. Amy stared at him. He cut a striking figure in the torchlight.

Amy had seen him at his best, tonight.

And at his worst.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Digging In<em>


	7. Digging In

The bandits rode into the village. As before, it was ten bandits and one robot. The robot seemed to be hovering a little closer to the ground this time.

Most of the peasants remained out in the fields as the bandits approached. When they reached the center of town, they found a mere two waiting for them.

"What's going on here?" demanded the bandit leader. "Usually all of you peasant scum rush into town when we arrive."

The two peasants were knelt down and pressing their foreheads towards the dirt, but one was still able to make his voice heard. "A thousand apologies," said Koji, "but there's just too much work to do this close to harvest."

"'This close to harvest'?" said the leader. He grabbed the spear from one of his companions and used the butt of it to prod Koji's back. "When we were here last time, you told us that the rice would be ready by now!"

"It's not up to us!" said Kenji. "Rice is ready when it's ready. It's been a long growing season, what with the late rains. It should make for a plentiful harvest."

"When?"

Kenji gulped. "Another m-moon," he said.

"Another moon?" shouted the bandit leader. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not!" said Kenji. He seemed to be burying his head in the ground. "Just realistic! Th-th-the rice isn't ready yet, and it will take longer than normal to harvest!"

"If we don't wait that long, we won't be able to give you your full tribute," said Koji.

The bandit growled. "And it really matters to you whether you give us the full tribute or not?" he growled. He prodded Koji again.

"I don't want to die!" Koji squealed.

The bandit roared in laughter. "I think we've got an understanding, then. Where's your elder, anyway?"

"Sick, sir, or he'd have talked to you personally."

"Sick? That's no excuse! Take me to him!"

"But sir…"

The bandit reversed the spear and jabbed with it.

It tore through the sleeve of Koji's clothes.

"That's your only warning," said the bandit leader. "Take me to your elder."

"Of course!" gibbered both peasants.

The bandit handed the spear back and dismounted. The peasants led him into the hall where sensei rested. Sensei lay much as he had before. He was asleep on his mat, underneath a thick blanket, with a towel laid across his forehead to absorb sweat. He was shivering and pale.

"Well, how about that," said the bandit. He squatted by sensei's side. "How do I know you're not faking?" He looked at the peasants. "Bow," he commanded. They hit the floor. He reached under sensei's blanket and pulled out one of his hands.

"How does this feel?" the bandit said. He shook sensei's forearm, causing his hand to flop about. "Okay, how about this?" He bent sensei's hand backwards. Arteries bulged through the skin as they were trapped against the joint. Sensei moaned in pain. "Or this?" He grabbed sensei's pinky and began to bend it outwards.

"Sir!" protested Kenji.

"Are you gonna try and stop me, or bow?" demanded the bandit imperiously. Kenji stalled for a moment, then pressed his face down again.

"Of course," laughed the bandit, "you can't do anything."

He broke sensei's finger. The snap echoed in the silent room.

Sensei groaned in pain. The peasants trembled. The bandit wasn't looking very closely at them, or he would have noticed that it was not fear that made them shake this time.

The bandit laughed and stood. "Well, looks like you weren't faking after all. I guess I'll have to take these jokers at their word. I hope for your sake they were being truthful. 'Cause otherwise…" he kicked sensei in the ribs. Sensei moaned, but barely moved.

The bandit walked past the peasants, stepping on Kenji's fingers as he went. They scurried after the bandit in case he had anything else to say, but he'd said his piece. He remounted his horse, and the bandits rode off. They made sure to spit in the well before they exited town.

Amy burst out from under a hidden panel behind sensei. "Why did you make me watch that? I had to bite my fingers to keep from crying out."

Sonic followed her. "It took me ten years to learn patience," he said. "I had no teacher but experience. I made a lot of mistakes along the way, and lots of people died because of it. If I can teach you patience, even a little bit, you'll be way ahead of the game. Now, check his ribs."

Amy assented. She knelt down next to sensei. She ran her fingers along his chest.

"Any soft spots? Anything feel wrong?"

She shook her head. "No… I think we lucked out. Sir," she added. It was a lot harder to remember than she'd thought it would be.

"Good. I was scared there for a moment."

"Then why didn't you do something?" she protested.

"If I'd meant to do something, they never would have gotten this close. It was really important for us that nothing happened to the bandits this time, even if they hurt us."

"I don't understand, sir."

"Imagine you're the bandit king. You send a bunch of guys to go check on a village. They don't come back. What do you do?"

She pouted. She knew the answer he wanted even though she didn't want to give it. "I'd send more guys to see what happened."

"More guys? I wouldn't. I'd send everyone. I'd kill 'em all, just on principle. Just on the _suspicion_ that they'd tried to stand up to me."

Amy shivered. "You're scaring me, sir."

He cocked his head. "Just because I can think like a bad guy doesn't make me a bad guy."

"I'm not so sure," Amy said before she could stop herself. She didn't mean to continue, but saw his quizzical look and gathered up her courage. "I've… I've never seen kindness used as a weapon before."

"What do you mean?"

"Last night," she said, unable to meet his eyes. "You were kind to the peasants who tried to steal from us. You… you told them it wasn't their fault."

"Wasn't it?"

"Yes! Even if Ichiro told them to, they decided to do it themselves. They chose to do it. Of course it was their fault! But you let them go anyway. And I know why. When you brought in Ichiro, he tried to deny his involvement. He'd told the peasants to cover for him. But you were nice to them, and he was mean, so they sided with you… and Ichiro got caught in a lie."

Sonic rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Huh… that's pretty clever. You sure are smart. Wish I'd thought of that."

"And as a result," she plowed on, "you destroyed Ichiro as a rival… and got yourself positioned as leader…"

Sonic gave her a bemused look. "You think I want to be leader of this place?"

"I don't know who you are," she admitted.

"I've told you that from the start." He knelt and gave sensei a pat. "As soon as this guy wakes up, this village is all his. I'll do my thing with the war, but I don't want any part of this."

"Then why did you destroy Ichiro?"

"I didn't destroy him," Sonic said. His voice had turned angry. "He destroyed himself. I just helped it happen. He was a danger to himself and those around him. Try and sell weapons to bandits? The bandits would kill everyone just for having them. If he hadn't told us the bandits were coming, we'd have had to kill them… and then the rest of the bandits would hit us before we're ready, and we'd all be dead in a few days."

He rubbed his temples. "I've seen this sort of guy before. He's the born number two. He's great with paperwork and handing out duties and keeping things neat and organized. He's a terrible leader. The sooner he's put back in the number two slot, the better for everyone."

"So you were willing to use kindness as your weapon?"

"Everything's a weapon," said Sonic. "Rouge uses sex as a weapon. Shadow uses pride."

"I thought you were a better person than Rouge or Shadow," mumbled Amy.

"Everything's a weapon," Sonic repeated. "Even for you. You could kill me with pretty much any object in this room, with effort and a little thought. Some are easier to use than others, that's all."

"If everything's a weapon… does that mean that nothing's off-limits?"

"No."

She ran a hand over her head. "I don't understand."

"I'm not saying this is easy, Amy. Armies of philosophers have fought over questions like this, and they still don't agree. And neither of us has the time for you to go through all the different weapons and ask if they're okay. It's too complicated."

"That's a cop-out."

"Maybe it is. But it's all a judgment call, isn't it? I play by my own rules. I've never cared about what other people said. So do you trust me to know what's a good weapon and what's not?"

He gave her a dazzling smile, as if to dare her to say no. She couldn't stand against it and averted her eyes.

"Who watches you?" she murmured.

"What's that?"

She hadn't meant for her words to be audible. There they were, though, and they could not be unsaid. "Who watches you?" she said.

"I do, of course."

"That's just it," she said. "You only play by your own rules, right? What if your rules let you be a bad guy?"

"They don't. I'll let you in on a secret about me. I'm the hero."

"You're the hero," she said dubiously.

"Duh! You know how they say that everyone's the hero of their own life? Well, that's really the case with me. I have to be the good guy, 'cause that's who I am. If I ever wasn't the good guy, what'd be the point? If I end up dying because of it, I guarantee it'll be a hell of a death, and death's a big adventure, too. So I'll stay the good guy, no matter what it costs me. Sound good to you?"

Amy wasn't sure she knew how to argue that point. He was Sonic. She gave in. "And Vector? Was he a weapon, too?"

"No. He needed to say that for his own peace of mind. He'd been boiling over ever since we arrived, I know you noticed. It helped the peasants come to terms with hiring us, but that was just a happy coincidence. I'd have let Vector go regardless."

Sonic stood. "Still want to be my student? It's not a pretty world we live in. The only things messier than our problems are our solutions."

She nodded slowly. "Maybe. But… I think I'd rather learn that from someone who's trying to do something about it."

"Then let's head outside. We've got a lot of work to do."

As they rose, as Sonic walked past Amy towards the door, she reflected for a moment on how different Sonic was from the other people she'd known. She'd met plenty of boys during her travels, and plenty of males who happened to be of adult age. But Sonic had lived more of his life than any three of them- lived it fully, both the joys and the sorrows. It was just one of the things that made him so worthy, so... Sonic.

Worthy to be her instructor, she reminded herself sternly. This was no time to be confusing things.

The other warriors and most of the peasants were waiting for them. Sonic spoke to Ichiro in a carrying voice. "I know you have chores in the fields to do. I'm not a farmer, so I don't know what or how many. So I'm going to trust you to give me as many able-bodied men as you can spare. Understand?"

Ichiro nodded eagerly. This was a task he was comfortable with.

"The rest of the men, divide them up into groups of five. There's a lot to do and not much time."

Sonic turned to the warriors. "We need materials, first and foremost," he said. "Knuckles, Vector, Shadow, you'll be in charge of logging parties, with Knuckles as top boss. Tails, materials survey. Find out what we've got to work with here. I'll be doing a survey of the ground to figure out the best way to defend this place. Amy, you're with me as a stenographer."

"And me?" said Rouge.

"Ah, Rouge." He put a hand on her shoulder and walked her away from the group. "As it turns out, I've got a job in mind that's right up your alley."

She grinned toothily. "I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

><p>It felt strange to Seiji to be back in the fields. He'd been away from the village only briefly, yet his thinking had changed. This village, which had seemed so perfectly sized before, now seemed small because he had Akemo to compare it to. Not that he minded small; it's just he never would have thought to call it "small".<p>

He was a farmer through and through. As Kenji had said, he had rice in his blood. He wondered at times, though, how much better life would be in the village if it had a blacksmith or a tanner like he'd seen in Akemo, even if it wasn't him.

He'd changed, certainly. The other farmers noticed. It wasn't obvious. Seiji wasn't the type to babble excitedly because he couldn't keep an idea to himself. He wasn't the type who proved how worldly he was by boasting about his deeds and experiences. The other farmers could still tell that he had changed. His eyes were elsewhere. He looked through his tools instead of at them.

And he looked up when he heard Sonic talking.

The other farmers continued working all around him, but Seiji stopped. The rice paddies were in a low part of the ground for ease of irrigation; the border with the village was a rampart of earth. Sonic was walking along the ramparts with Amy in tow. Seiji couldn't hear what he was talking about, but he could guess. Sonic kept pointing to the far side of the paddies, and to the irrigation setup itself.

Sonic noticed Seiji standing. "Seiji," he called out, "could you answer a question for me?"

The other farmers stopped and stared. Seiji ignored them and nodded.

"How high would the waters rise if you were to fully flood this field?"

Seiji considered the question for a moment, then placed his hand straight across his chest at nipple-height. He thought for a bit longer, then raised his hand until it was just beneath the base of his neck.

"Wonderful. We'll flood the fields when the war starts, then. Thanks, Seiji."

"You're welcome," said Seiji, though he wasn't sure if his voice carried the full distance. Sonic walked on.

Seiji looked around. The other farmers wouldn't stop staring at him. He forced a shrug and returned to his work. There was always more work. His mind wasn't in it. He kept thinking about what would happen when the fields were flooded.

He had changed, for sure. The other peasants weren't sure how or why. They allowed him a wide berth.

* * *

><p>Sonic and Amy returned to the main hall. Tails met them there. "It's worse than I thought," said Tails.<p>

"My situation's better than we thought. You first."

"These guys have almost no worthwhile resources," Tails said. "A handful of metal tools, mostly axes and farming tools. This planet has a ridiculous amount of metal available, and somehow they have none of it. Leather and hide are almost nonexistent. If they didn't know about ceramics, we might as well be back in the stone age. At least they have rope—all the rope we could ever need."

Sonic nodded. "About what we expected, really."

"But less than I'd hoped. At least the lumber's good. Oak, ash, elm, all good stuff."

"Pikes, then."

"Yeah. Pikes, for sure. We'll make them long enough to keep horses at bay. There won't be a whole lot of technique to it—just hold it out and hope something runs into it. The trick will be convincing the peasants not to drop them when they need to move."

"How about bows?"

"We can make them, but they'll be really, really limited. The problem is they don't have good materials for bowstrings. If I'd've known I would've brought more. Sorry."

"No worries."

"Feathers we can get, there are enough birds around here. Arrowheads will be a problem, with no metal."

"We can use bone from the animals around here, right?"

"It's really labor-intensive to make good arrowheads like that, and we're low on time. We might as well use rocks. Like I said, stone age."

"We'll get the children to do it. We'll make a game out of it. They can get the rocks from the local stream, then bash them against each other. That should be fun."

"It's worth a shot." Tails ran a hand over head, scratching between his oversized ears. "I've gotta say, Sonic, if this isn't the hardest project you've ever given me, it's definitely in the top three."

"Come on. Back in Station Square, we practically rebuilt their sewer system."

"Yeah, but that was with a large workforce and all the benefits of modern technology. Here? I've got nothing. The plans I've got are simple because simple is all I've got to work with."

"Good thing I've got you, then. I don't think anyone else could figure it out."

Tails sighed, though the corners of his mouth were turning up. "There you go flattering me again. You know I can't stand that."

"Only because you're too modest to take the credit yourself!"

"Alright, alright. I'll get it done. We'll make this village a regular stone-age Gibraltar. How about you?"

"Amy?"

Amy placed a piece of paper on the floor between the friends. "It's rough," she said abashedly, "and not precisely to scale."

Sonic and Tails stared at it. It was a detailed map of the village and its immediate surroundings. Different marks denoted distances, most importantly between the village borders and the forest or river. She'd managed to do a decent job representing altitude contours. Where she couldn't convey what she meant graphically, she wrote annotations in very small, very neat letters.

"I'm sorry," said Amy. "It was the best I could do."

Tails finally spoke. "Amy, if this warrior thing doesn't work out, you may have a second career lined up."

"Don't make fun of me," she protested.

"He's not," said Sonic. "This, by itself, will save lives. Good work." She blushed furiously. "Here's how I think we do this…"

* * *

><p>Knuckles' muscles ached. That was how he knew he'd gotten a good day's work in.<p>

Shadow had been less than helpful. He seemed completely bored cutting down things that didn't fight back, and his lack of enthusiasm infected the rest of his team of peasants. Vector's team had made up for it, though. Knuckles had had to keep himself from punching Vector a few times, but once he got the big lug pointed in the right direction, he was a steamroller.

Knuckles rotated his arm a couple times. It felt good to work the muscles back into place. Now it was time for a good dinner, a little bit of conversation, and a nice, long sleep.

Before he could enter the warrior's building, Rouge walked out. He stopped cold. She yawned ostentatiously, then pretended to notice him for the first time. "Oh, good evening, little boy."

He growled. "We're out there busting our tails, and you're in here napping?"

"Boss' orders. I'd be wasted as a lumberjack. You? You're more muscle than brain, of course you fit right in."

"I hate the thought of you getting any ideas about how special you are," Knuckles grouched. "You've got to pull your weight like the rest of us."

"I will, but in a different way. Didn't you know? I do all my best work at night." She gave him a saucy wink.

Knuckles rolled his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it. Now get out of the way."

"Don't get your undies in a bunch, little boy. I was just leaving. Try not to die while I'm gone."

"You might die if you stay."

"You're so cute. Ta-ta."

Rouge slunk off. Knuckles was glad to be rid of her.

He entered the building in time to hear Vector whispering. He must have thought he was whispering, at least. Vector whispering was like most people's speaking voice.

"What I wanna know is, does he ever eat?" said Vector. He was making a less-than-subtle gesture towards Shadow. "I mean, I see the bowl full, and then I see the bowl empty. Is someone stealing his bowl, or does he just eat when no one's looking?"

"It's rude to talk about people in front of them," Tails pointed out.

"Don't worry, he's asleep. Er… he is asleep, right?" He looked back at Shadow. "That's the whole thing. If he's asleep, then how did he know we were eating? And if he's not asleep, why does he spend all his time with his eyes closed?"

"Maybe he can't bear to look at you," suggested Knuckles.

"That's harsh, Knuckles. It's alright, though. You're a good guy. You got almost as much work done as I did, today."

Vector expected Knuckles to mount an indignant defense, but he just shrugged. "It doesn't matter that much."

"Hey, I was just teasing. Aw, heck with it."

Amy walked in. She went over close by Shadow. His eyes opened as she approached. She sat close by him—not too close, but close enough to speak. He seemed to lose interest in her and shut his eyes once more.

She began to eat—carefully, with a bit of dignity. She was following Sonic's example and ensuring that none of the rice was wasted. In between bites, she asked, "Have you done this sort of thing before?"

He didn't respond. It wasn't that he refused to answer. His face implied that the question simply didn't apply to him.

Amy ate a few more bites rather than press the issue. "Where will you go when we're done here?"

"Done?" he repeated.

"After the bandits are dead. Oh, and assuming you win your duel with Sonic."

Shadow shrugged.

"Do you like the village?"

"Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"I'm not a threat to you, Shadow."

He began to deny that the thought was present—then stopped, as it wasn't true. "So you say," he said.

"At first, I tried to figure out the reason you were cold to me," she said as she continued to eat. "I thought it was maybe because we were both hedgehogs. Then I thought maybe it was because I was a girl. For a while I thought it was just because I was a weaker fighter."

Shadow said nothing.

"But it wasn't any of that, was it?"

"No."

"This is just how you treat everyone."

"Yes."

"That's really stupid."

For the first time, Shadow opened his eyes and looked at her. A hint of genuine anger appeared on his face.

"Not everyone treats you the same," Amy said. "Other people treat you differently. Some are threats, sure. But some aren't. You just pretend everyone is. That's really stupid."

She stood with her now-empty bowl and excused herself from the room.

Shadow watched her go. Only then did he notice that everyone in the room had hushed to listen; all eyes were on him. "What?" he demanded. They casually turned away.

Shadow shut his eyes again. This time, his vision was dominated by pink.

* * *

><p><em>Next time:<em> _What Is Remembered_


	8. What Is Remembered

The days quickly settled into a routine. From first light to twilight, the peasants worked on their defenses. They cut down trees, built walls, and made weapons, with Vector, Knuckles, and Shadow providing muscle and leadership and Tails lending direction and advice. Sonic and Amy helped out, as well, though Sonic spent a fair amount of his time planning their defense and teaching Amy. She didn't always like his lessons, but she did like his company, and she always learned.

Sonic seemed like he was everywhere. He saw every villager, even sensei, once a day. It took Amy a few days to realize he was doing it deliberately. She decided to ask Tails about it.

"It's something he picked up during a campaign," Tails said. "It cheers people up to know they're part of something big. He thinks part of his job is to make them think like that."

"Does it work?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's hard for me to tell. I loved Sonic before he started doing that."

"I know what you mean," Amy said without thought.

"Huh?" said Tails, cocking his head.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly, and changed the subject.

When night fell, Amy would eat nearby Shadow and try to draw him into conversation. Occasionally, she succeeded. In that respect, she was way ahead of anyone else.

Rouge would disappear for days at a time, reappearing only to sleep heavily and get new supplies. She refused to say what she was doing. For her, keeping secrets was both in her nature and highly amusing.

Eventually, though, the harvest could not be ignored. The warriors lost most of their workforce as the peasants returned to the fields. So they continued on alone as best they could.

* * *

><p>"The wall will come back here," said Sonic. "We'll leave the entrance open, but it'll be covered by walls on each side."<p>

"Why leave the entrance open?" asked Amy.

"A couple of reasons. First, it's hard to make a gate mechanism with the tools we've got. It's possible, but it'd take more time than we can afford. But the better reason is that we're better off without one."

Amy frowned. After a few moments puzzling over it, she asked, "How?"

"Every fortress needs a weak spot."

She shook her head to try and shoo the crazy away. "I thought a chain is only as strong as its weakest link."

"That's a bad comparison. Here, let me show you." He drew his sword and settled into a battle stance. "Where am I vulnerable?"

Amy looked him up and down. It took a bit of effort to focus on his task, but she managed. Everything above the waist was guarded by the sword, while his legs would be hard to hit and easy to defend with footwork alone. "Nowhere," she said.

"Right. How about now?"

He left the stance and stood facing her openly. His feet were shoulder width apart. He held the sword with his right hand only, and the blade was away from his body.

"A lot of places," Amy said.

"Like where?"

"Your left side. That's where the sword is furthest from your body."

"Okay. Now draw your training sword."

She obliged him.

"Give me a good pop."

"Huh?"

"Smack me with your sword," he said. "Gimme your best shot."

She swallowed her objections. She'd hit him, alright, if he wanted to tempt fate like this. She wound up a blow and aimed it for his exposed left shoulder.

As she started the swing, the flat of Sonic's katana whacked her training sword. The force bent her wrist to a painful angle. She dropped the sword. "Ow!" she cried, cradling her hand.

Sonic winced. "Sorry about that. It didn't go off quite as I'd planned. Still not used to holding back, you know?"

"It'll be alright," Amy said. "It was a great hit, just a little too much force behind it."

"Do you see what I mean, at least? What just happened?"

"You kept me from hitting you," Amy said.

"How? I was vulnerable, wasn't I?"

"Yes."

"So what's the trick?"

Amy considered it. "You were vulnerable," she said, "but in a place you knew, because you left it open."

"So far, so good."

"You didn't have to think about what kind of strike I'd make because you knew what it would be. You knew where and how I was going to attack—and that meant that you could plan how you'd guard yourself."

"You _are_ sharp. I knew I liked you for some reason."

"I thought it was my bulldog-persistence."

"And your bubbling personality. But that's another matter. The point is that this village," he said, gesturing around him, "is like my body in that example. If we guard everywhere, then we make the bandits work to create an opening, and we don't know where they'll attack. We don't have enough strength to guard everywhere. So we'll leave an opening to encourage them to hit us there, and guard it with most of our strength. Plus, they think we're idiots, so it looks like a mistake. They'll be tripping over themselves to attack us there."

"Makes perfect sense," said Amy. She continued to rub her hand.

"I really didn't mean to hit you so hard. You are okay, right?"

"I know you didn't mean to do it. Don't worry about it." She grimaced. "Besides, I know some of us will suffer much more soon enough."

"That's no excuse to suffer now. Head back and get it looked at."

She obeyed. That gave Sonic all the privacy he needed to curse himself out for stupidity and carelessness.

* * *

><p>Vector did everything with the same level of volume. Deafening.<p>

"There it goes!" he shouted as another tree fell to the ground. "Hey, Knuckles, will we need any more?"

"It's hard to say," said Knuckles through clenched teeth. Vector had asked the same question after every tree he'd chopped down today.

Vector didn't notice Knuckles' attitude. "I wish we had one of those big two-man saws. I bet you and me would make a nasty saw team." He thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, while we're wishing, I wish I had a chainsaw."

"It'd be a better weapon than your spear," Knuckles said.

Vector guffawed. Knuckles forced a smile, since Vector seemed to expect it. He hadn't been kidding.

The two warriors clambered over the tree, chopping off the branches. The larger ones had potential as building material. The smaller ones were dross. There were piles of small branches in dozens of places. The village labor force had chopped down many trees to supply Tails' plans, and there hadn't been time to get rid of their garbage.

"This'll be my first battle," Vector said conversationally. Knuckles grunted. "Been in plenty of brawls before, but it's not the same thing, I expect. What about you? You've been in lots of battles before, right?"

"A couple."

"What were they—"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Knuckles.

"Oh come on," said Vector. "Of course you do. That's what we are, isn't it? Warriors? We live to fight. So what'd be more natural than talking about it?"

"I'll talk to you about street performing, if you want."

"Street performing? What's the point of that?"

"Oh, you make a little money, and make some people happy for a few moments."

"No, I mean what's the point in talking about it?"

"What's the point of talking about battle?"

"I'm a lot more interested in battle than I am in street performing."

"Well, I'm more willing to talk about street performing than I am about battle."

"Why is that?"

Knuckles acted as if he hadn't heard Vector. Vector stopped hacking at branches. "Hey, Knuckles? Why'd you become a street performer, anyway?" Still Knuckles didn't answer. "I mean, you can do a lot more good as a warrior than you ever could as a street performer…"

Knuckles buried his axe up to its haft in the trunk of the tree. Vector noticed. "Was it something I said?" he asked.

Knuckles eased himself, very slowly, into a sitting position. He was clenching and unclenching his fists. The motion made his barbs dance. "Vector," he said, "I'm going to forgive you for saying that. I'll even forget that you asked about why I'm a street performer. I'll do that for you, since Sonic says you're useful. On one condition. Don't ask again."

Vector nodded amiably. "Sure thing," he said. "Hey, do you think we'll see technology rise again? In our lifetimes, I mean."

Knuckles blinked hard. "Huh?"

"You know. Get back to making cars and computers and robots and stuff. How long do you think 'til the planet's back there again?"

Knuckles gawked at Vector. Vector had tread very close to one of Knuckles' personal red lines—and thought nothing of it. Thought so little of it that he could instantly shift topics. Was he clever enough to sense when he was on dangerous ground? Or was he so simple-minded that he didn't care?

"Hey look, a bluebird!"

Simple-minded.

"Anyway, what do you think? Think we'll get back there in our lifetime?"

Knuckles shrugged. "What does a street performer care? But since you asked… no. It'll take a while. People have to trust each other enough to get together again. You need cooperation and trade to build technology. Sonic says we're getting there, but it'll be awhile."

"Oh. Well, if that's what Sonic says."

Knuckles laughed. "What does he know? Sonic's just a warrior like the rest of us."

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Really?"

"He got you here, didn't he? When's the last time you swung your sword when you weren't performing?"

The question was dead-on. If Knuckles could have thought that way, he might have reconsidered that maybe Vector was clever, after all. He couldn't think that way because of how he'd have to answer the question.

It would mean thinking about…

Knuckles shook his head to try and blur the thoughts away. He wouldn't go back there. Damn Vector for bringing it up again! It was nothing to Vector to mention it, because it didn't matter to him. Maybe he just couldn't see how it could still matter to Knuckles.

He didn't know that Knuckles was already dead.

Vector decided Knuckles wasn't going to answer the question, so he got back to work. Embarrassed, Knuckles started to do the same. He nearly broke his axe trying to get it back out of the tree.

* * *

><p>"Glad we could catch everyone this morning," said Sonic. "Rouge, I know you're tired, but I need you to stay up until we get through this."<p>

"It's no problem," she replied, though the bags under her eyes were heavy. "I'm made of stronger stuff than that."

Knuckles huffed. Rouge turned sharply to him, ready to rebut whatever he said, but he said nothing.

"The harvest is in," Sonic announced. "All that's left is packaging and storing, and it doesn't take nearly as many people to do that. We're going to need to start training the peasants soon on our defense. The plan goes something like this. Amy? The map."

She laid down a new version of her village drawing. This one incorporated the wall that was under construction and a few other parts of the plan.

The wall around the village didn't make a perfect square. The middle of the northern area drew in, making the overall shape more like a squared-off horseshoe.

"The south and east sides of the village are easy to defend," Sonic said, pointing. "We'll flood the fields. It'll be hard to move across there, and impossible to move across quickly. It's a lot of territory, so we won't defend it much. We're going to stretch really thin there, with only a handful of peasants as lookouts. Shadow, you'll cover this area."

Shadow's eyes narrowed. "This isn't the challenge I was promised," he said.

"It only seems like it isn't," Sonic answered. "Actually, it's the hardest job of all. You've got an awful lot of ground to cover, and if they do attack on one of those angles, you'll be all alone holding the line until we get reserves over to you."

That seemed to mollify Shadow. He relaxed.

"Knuckles? You've got the west side. You'll have a few more peasants with you. It's a long distance from the forest to our wall, so you'll have time to get people together, but it'll take a bit more coordination from us to defend it, because the bandits can cross in greater numbers. With your leadership and knowledge of defense, you're the best choice here."

"Leadership?" Knuckles grumbled. "Knowledge of defense? What makes you think I've got anything like that?"

Sonic's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Oh, call it a hunch," he said.

Knuckles crossed his arms and looked away. "Fine," he said.

"Amy, Rouge, each of you gets one of the northern parts here," said Sonic, gesturing to the top ends of the horseshoe. "You'll be in close contact with each other and the middle. I expect most of the pressure to come at the north end, since that's where the road is and that's where our entrance is. You'll have to use your judgment on when the center needs help."

"What if I haven't accomplished my mission yet?" asked Rouge. "Are we just gapping that area?"

"For the first few days, I want you here to help out our defense. I expect the bandits to back off a bit after we bloody them a little. That's when I'll let you loose to finish up. How long will it take you to reverse your sleep schedule from days to nights? Is three days enough?"

She made a dismissive hand gesture. "When I needed to, I've done it in one."

"Two days, then. Two days before the bandits return I want you back here so you'll be awake and alert when they hit us."

"Fair enough."

"The center is where we expect the most pressure, so we'll have the most peasants there," Sonic said. "Vector, you'll lead the center group."

"Alright! Bring 'em on!" Vector roared.

Sonic smiled. "You remember yo-yos?"

"Yo-yos? What, the spinning toy?"

"Yeah, yo-yos. You know, walk the dog, around the world, cat's cradle, all those tricks?"

"Sure! Never could make 'em work, but I remember 'em."

"I was a champ, myself. There wasn't a trick I couldn't do."

"That's neat, but why bring 'em up now?"

"The center's a big yo-yo," Sonic explained. "See how there's this long region between the outside wall and where the opening is? In the middle of this horseshoe-shape? We'll call that the Alley. What you'll do is you'll withdraw down the length of the Alley until you get to the end. Then, you'll stop the peasants, turn, and chase the bandits back up the Alley, until you get to the end of the wall here. Then you'll turn back around and bring them back down the Alley."

"Okay, boss, but what for?"

"Along the edges of the Alley, we'll have archers. Our goal is to stick as many arrows into the bandits as we possibly can. So the longer we keep the bandits in the Alley, the more arrows we can stick into them. In a perfect world, we don't actually hit them with anything but arrows."

Vector scratched his head. "Do you think we'll be able to hold the end of the Alley?"

"You'll have pikes. Enough pikes to fill most of the end, if not all of it. No one wants to run into a wall of pikes."

"I sure don't. Sheesh."

"Exactly."

"What about you? And Tails?"

"Tails and I are in reserve, here," said Sonic, pointing to the dead middle of the map. "We'll have a few extra peasants, plus ourselves. We're both really mobile, so we'll be able to respond wherever there's danger."

"But how will you know?" said Knuckles. "Like you said, this is a lot of ground to cover."

"The peasants have some drums and bells they use for festivals," Sonic said. "We'll spread them out across our perimeter. Drums mean you see enemies on your side. Bells mean you're in combat, or about to be. Tails will make sure they're pitched differently, so we'll be able to tell where the sound's coming from by both direction and sound."

Everyone nodded. They could see the plan coming together.

"Tails, how are we for weapons?"

"Every able-bodied man will have either a pike or a bow, and a few of the stronger women will have bows," Tails said. "We're short on arrows, but we're getting there. We'll have to recover every arrow we can."

"And the wall?"

"It's more like a fence," said Tails. "It's thickest here at the Alley, since it has to support platforms for the archers. Elsewhere, I've spaced the posts enough that we can jab between them with pikes. Our pikes are longer than anything we expect the bandits to use, so we can safely defend the fence from well inside.

"Each post is buried a good distance," he continued. "Plus, we're lashing cross-bars across the top, so you can't pull out a single post and create an opening. It's taking an awful lot of lumber. We might not have enough posts to cover the whole perimeter."

"If you have to cut it short, cut it short in the south." He shot Shadow a grin. "That okay with you?"

"Of course," said Shadow.

"Great." Sonic stood. "That's the general plan. We'll work out a few specifics later on. For now, we need to start training the peasants. Vector, Knuckles, you'll be with the pikemen. Who knows anything about training archers?"

Amy reluctantly raised her hand. "I've been trained in classical archery," she said.

Sonic paused. "Is that right?"

"Before the wars, I was enrolled in an old-fashioned boarding school," she said, visibly uncomfortable. "Really old-fashioned. They still taught Latin, for crying out loud. They taught us all the old stuff like that. I was actually pretty good at the archery. Better than I was at Latin, anyway."

"Well, like they say, everything old is new again," said Sonic brightly. "I'll trust you to do it."

"I'll do my best."

"I'd have Tails do it, but he's still building our defenses. Rouge, you know what you're doing. Shadow? Hm… something will come to me."

Shadow volunteered nothing. He just stood there with his arms crossed, bored beyond belief.

"That's all for now. Let's get to it!"

The other warriors left, chattering over their new instructions and Sonic's strategy. Rouge remained. "Sonic," she said, "how does my job fit in with all of this?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Sonic said. "Just focus on getting it done."

"If I succeed, will we be able to do anything about it?"

"The bandits will give us a chance. Count on it. I'm not wasting your time. Your mission is essential to my plan."

Rouge cocked her head. "You know, you're different than I expected," she said.

Sonic looked surprised. "How?"

"When I first met you, you struck me as the fast-talking, act-first-think-later sort of guy. You still do." She peered closer at him, like he was a painting and she was trying to make out some of the detail work. "But you're not. You plan, and think things through, and keep tight control over your tongue."

"Trust me, it doesn't come naturally." Sonic tapped a finger to his skull. "I learned to do all that. I really am the sort of guy you talked about. It's just… I taught myself to be more careful. I can't be that guy any more. I have to be better than that."

"It's not necessarily better," she said. "Just different."

He gave her a bemused expression. "Lemme tell you a story. Once upon a time, a hedgehog and his buddies arrived at a city under siege. They helped them out, built up their defenses, and generally made things better. The hedgehog, who was young and stupid, told the defenders that, with his help, they could fight off a hundred robots."

"What a hero."

"Except that when they heard this, the defenders slacked off. They expected to be attacked by seventy-five robots, so when the hedgehog said he could help them take a hundred, they relaxed, because everything was fine. When the robots attacked, the hedgehog reacted without thinking, and ran off to take on the first group. Behind him, more than a hundred robots hit the defenses. The hedgehog couldn't help out like he'd meant to. And the defenders, who probably could've taken seventy-five on their own, got flattened."

"And was this hedgehog's name Sonic?"

He smiled. "It's just a story."

"Someone once tried to tell me that all stories are true."

"You're a spy. You know better."

"A sometime-spy."

"Good enough."

"What city was it?"

"Hm? Oh, nowhere."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I've been a lot of places as a warrior," he said. "So I like to think I've learned a lesson or two over the years. Including how to keep my head, and when it's best to just say nothing."

Rouge wanted to keep prying, but there was a tinge to Sonic's voice that gave her pause. She looked at him anew. Sonic had been fighting for his entire adult life, going from one battle to another. He also, by his own admission, had never won a battle. Those two statements going together made her marvel. No wonder he took his "lessons" seriously. They'd been very, very expensive.

She gave a hmph. "Makes me wonder if I've learned anything. Sonic, I'm going to bed."

"You do that."

She left Sonic alone with his pain.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Legacies<em>


	9. Legacies

"What was it like?"

Amy resisted the urge to jerk her head around. She resisted the even stronger urge to ask Shadow why he was initiating conversation for once. It would have broken whatever spell he was under.

"What was what like?" she said instead, though it took all her willpower.

"You said you were at a boarding school before," Shadow said. "Where you learned archery. And Latin."

"Latin… ha! I've forgotten all of that. Latin's the language you use when you want to show everyone how smart you are. Guess how often I've had to use that."

"How often have you had to use archery?"

"Well, at least the archery stuck better," she said abashedly. "I learn better by doing, anyway."

Shadow still wasn't looking at her; his view was straight forward. Even so, when she spoke, she could see him tilt his head as he pondered it. It was as if learning something new was a foreign concept.

"My parents died when I was little," Amy went on. "There was enough money left over to send me to the boarding school instead of an orphanage. I didn't want foster parents. I thought… heh. I guess I thought they would replace mommy and daddy. I didn't want a fake mommy and daddy, I wanted the real thing, and if I couldn't have that, I'd do without."

"Very stubborn of you."

"I've heard words like that a lot. As for the school itself… I have mostly good memories of it. It really was my home. Most of the other girls were there for most of the year, but went to be with their families over the summer. I wasn't like that."

She stopped, allegedly to help herself to another handful of rice, but in reality to assess Shadow's reaction. He was paying attention, she had no doubt of that. Otherwise, he was as opaque as ever.

And yet… it was a studied opaque. A careful opaque. A deliberate opaque. Normally he had no expression. Now he was keeping his face neutral. It was a subtle difference, but startling once Amy caught on to it.

"Would you like me to go on?" she asked.

"If it pleases you," he answered. It was a decided non-answer, and at that was more than Shadow usually gave. Feeling encouraged, Amy plunged ahead.

"Whenever a new girl came, I would always try to be the first one to greet her. After a couple of years I knew the school better than anyone. I knew which ceiling tiles in which dorms popped out. I knew that the janitor always forgot to lock the third-floor supply cabinet. I knew that Ms. Dana never applied the curve to the highest-scoring student, since it made the average look better."

"Curve?" asked Shadow.

"Er… it'd be too hard to explain. Point is, I knew the school better than anyone, and I saw it as my job to help out new students by sharing what I knew. The teachers had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, it made sure that no one was a stranger. Everyone was accepted by everyone, or they had me to answer to."

"Like you did with Vector?"

"Yeah, like that. On the other hand, it let the other girls get away with way more than they had a right to. Not that it mattered, once the crash came."

Shadow nodded. "How long ago was that?"

"Must have been… five years ago that the school shut down. It managed to hang on for a long time after the Eggman Wars started. At first most families kept their kids in, since the school was in a remote spot. It was as safe a place as any, and safer than most. Too many families died, though, and too many families pulled their kids out, so that at least they'd face the disaster as a family. Latin and logic and long division weren't going to be helpful at that point.

"It was hardest on some of the other girls whose families had died. They had nowhere to go. It… it made me so angry. I couldn't stand to see them so helpless and alone. So I did my best to try and find homes for them. I pushed the teachers to take in as many as they could. For the rest, I started traveling. The roads weren't as bad then as they are now, and there was still a little technology left to make it quicker. Took me almost a year, but I found families for everyone."

"Except yourself."

"By that point, what was a family going to be to me? I'd been taking care of myself for a while, and done a pretty good job of it. I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. And I was learning that the world was becoming a dangerous place for a girl on her own.

"I managed to track down a salvage crew and joined up for a while. They were piecing together what technology they could from the ruins and battlefields. They were happy for any help they could get, so they took me in right away. It was fun work. It all came to a halt when some soldiers attacked us, killed a bunch of us, and ran off with our best finds.

"That's when I decided I needed to be a warrior. There was so much wrong with the world. People were like ducklings. They can barely feed themselves. They're easy prey. They can't really run away, they just hope no one finds them. Imagine that… a whole world of ducklings. How could I not do something? So I dug up an old book on kendo, taught myself the basics, and started looking for a master to teach me more."

"Which brought you to Akemo."

"By this road and that and a lot of time, yes." She looked at Shadow again. His face seemed… softer, now.

"I've decided," said Shadow, "that you probably exist."

Amy choked down the urge to laugh. She couldn't contain the urge to screw up her face in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Just as it sounds. I think you probably exist."

"I _know_ I exist. _Cogito ergo sum_."

"What was that you said about Latin?"

"I know, I know. You're a bad influence on me."

"Am I really?" Shadow's voice was curious.

"No, no, that was just banter. I think I may be more of an influence on you."

That was the wrong thing to say. His face began to harden again. To try and distract him, she blurted out the first thought that came to her. "So, do you think you have some big advantage over me, now?"

For the first time, he turned to face her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're the sort who thinks that opening up to someone is weakness, right? That's why you think someone's a threat if they ask about you. I don't think you're a threat, Shadow. That's why I told you all of that." She looked back at him. "Were you trying to get an edge on me, Shadow? Why?"

"It wasn't like that," he said. "And I don't think that opening up to someone is weakness."

"Then what?"

"I was curious what it would be like to have a past."

Before she could say anything else, he rose. "Shadow," she protested. It was all she could think up; her mind was still trying to process his previous statement.

He ignored her, though. He left the room and vanished into the night.

She gathered herself up and followed, but to no avail. He was gone.

* * *

><p>There were two days until the bandits returned. The pikemen barely understood when to run and when to turn. If not for the fact that a pike is a very simple weapon, they wouldn't have understood how to use them, either. The archers, as a rule, were inaccurate at any range past the end of the bow. At least they had stopped hurting their fingers and poking themselves in the eyes with their arrows.<p>

The prospect of training these decidedly un-war-like people didn't generate too much enthusiasm for Knuckles. When he finished breakfast that morning, he lingered for a time past when the others dispersed.

"Least we were better trained than these jokers," he murmured to himself. "Not that it mattered. We were also more heavily outnumbered, and those robots were more mobile… so who knows? What do you think, Tikal? Think we can hold them this time?"

He stood and walked over to the burlap sack he'd brought from Akemo. He opened it up.

Inside was a beautiful piece of armor.

It was cut just low enough that his ring of white collar-fur would be visible and extended down to just past the ribs. It was golden in color and luster, though not in composition. It was highly segmented, almost like a mosaic, and it flexed slightly when struck. This allowed the armor to catch and trap speartips and swords and still permit maximum mobility. Underneath the outer pieces was a flexible fiber underweave. Though lightweight, it was strong enough to stop virtually anything the mosaic slowed. The underweave was black to help emphasize the golden coloring of the mosaic. The armor included pauldrons to cover the shoulders and side of the neck. In the center was in-built a medallion with the same heraldry as the pommel of Knuckles' sword: a large green jewel supported by an inverted white arc.

Knuckles fingered the armor reverently, running his hands across its pieces, the pauldrons, the medallion. "Should I wear this, Tikal?" he whispered, his emotions in turmoil. "Would it be right? Should I be allowed to wear it, after all these years?"

So intently focused was he on his armor that when Rouge barged into the room he jumped directly to a standing position from surprise. "Rouge! Don't do that!" he shouted.

"I've no time for you, little boy," she snarled in response. She was cradling her right arm. It looked like it wasn't where it was supposed to be, somehow.

"Oh, right. Sonic told you to return two days before the bandits."

"Very good, you have more memory retention than a goldfish. Now go away." Knuckles sensed that only part of her response was anger; the rest was probably pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's just peachy," she spat. "Go away!"

"What's up with your arm?"

"I dislocated my damn shoulder, that's what! Now shoo, I'm going to pop this arm back in its socket, and that's probably too graphic for your gentle stomach."

Knuckles did nothing of the sort. He started walking towards Rouge.

"Touch me and die," she growled.

"That's just it," Knuckles replied as he continued to approach. "You couldn't beat me right now, not with only one arm. So let me help you."

"Help me? Ha! Just watch me. I'll _never_ lean upon you."

"I'm not asking you to lean on me," he said. "I'm asking you to lean back."

"I. Don't. Need. Your. Help," Rouge snarled.

"If you could do this yourself, you would have already done it," he said.

It was a reasonable thing to say, and Rouge hated it all the more for that reason. "I was in a hurry before, that's why I didn't fix it myself," she said, telling a half-truth. "Now go away."

He stepped towards her again.

"You're taking your life into your own hands, boy!"

"I'm not a boy. But you're acting like a little girl."

She lashed out with a kick.

It wasn't entirely unexpected. Knuckles caught it, pushed it away. Rouge stole the momentum and pivoted to bring her good left arm around. The retractable claws in her gloves glimmered as they cut through the air.

Knuckles caught her arm and used his free hand to deliver an open-handed blow at her wounded shoulder. It caught her by surprise; she gasped in pain and shock, then grimaced in fury. Whatever else might be said about Knuckles, he was an equal-opportunity fighter. Knuckles tried to press his advantage. He stepped past her and pushed in a move that should have brought her to the ground.

She was impossibly flexible. Somehow she had enough strength in her core to let his arm sweep over her without losing her balance. She disentangled her leg from Knuckles and delivered a strong kick to his side. He stumbled a step, caught himself, and lashed out with a blind back kick.

Too slow. She deflected it, and the spinning punch that followed, stepped in close, and sent a knee into his groin. Even seeing it coming, he wasn't able to protect himself fully. He doubled over directly into her body. Her good hand moved towards his neck—he remembered suddenly what Sonic had said, that Rouge killed with her hands—

In panic he lashed out with his elbow, hitting her in the kidney. The nerves in the area screamed, causing her to twist involuntarily. He gave her a double-handed push to separate them. Rouge twitched in pain while Knuckles tried not to vomit.

"So… you are a man after all," she managed.

Knuckles ground his teeth together. "You know, Rouge, you made a mistake there."

"What's that?"

"Wise man once said…"

He rushed forward, fighting through the nausea before she had recovered. Her eyes widened in sudden fear.

"Never hit a male in the balls unless you're about to kill him."

He aimed his kick at her head, bringing it up along her right side. She couldn't block it, not with her arm useless, so she ducked her head instead. That was the opening Knuckles needed. He reached over Rouge's back, seized her good shoulder—and with it, control of her torso—and slammed her down, bringing her abdomen down over his knee. Phlegm flew from Rouge's mouth as her lungs emptied. Knuckles held her back down with his left arm, used his right arm to grab hers, and yanked straight out from her body. There was a sickening groan of bone against bone. The arm slid back into place.

Knuckles waited for a moment to let her catch her breath. He didn't want to just dump her on the ground. While he was suspended by courtesy, Rouge flexed her hand experimentally—then struck. With her now-restored arm she grabbed the inside of Knuckles' leg. He yowled in pain as her claws dug into his skin. That moment of distraction was enough. She rose suddenly, taking Knuckles' leg with her. His world turned upside-down. He landed flat on his back. In another moment she was straddling his chest—inside his guard, pinning his body down, leaving him at her mercy.

"I told you I didn't need your help," she said through clenched teeth.

Even now, totally exposed to her violence, Knuckles could not—or would not—restrain himself. "Didn't want it, maybe. But you needed it."

"Shut up! What do you care, anyway? You're nothing to me! Just go and worry about that Tikal chick you were talking to earlier."

Knuckles' eyes widened—she'd heard? Of course she had—with those ears, she probably heard an inconvenient number of secrets. The moment passed. He relaxed and chuckled. "I can't. She's been dead for fourteen years," he said.

"What's all this racket?" yammered Vector. There was a table obscuring part of his view, but he definitely saw Rouge straddling Knuckles, Knuckles smiling, and both of them flushed and breathing hard. He also saw their expressions go instantly to mortified. "Oh, uh, sorry… didn't mean to barge in on the two of you…. I mean, if I'd known… bye."

He backed out the way he'd come.

Knuckles chuckled again. "That'll be all over the village in minutes."

"Too bad, too," said Rouge as she rose. "The last thing I want is for people to think you're worth my time."

And then she extended a hand down to him.

A gesture like that was as unexpected as the sky turning green. He gaped at her for a moment—was this a trick? Was this some clever trap? Why would Rouge ever offer assistance? But he waffled only a moment. As boggling as this was, he had to take advantage of it before she changed her mind. He grasped her hand in return.

She hauled him to his feet.

"We're going to have to do this again sometime," she said, "when we're on a more even footing."

He could not stop himself. "So I guess I am worth your time after all."

She looked like she was about to bite his head off—then, before she spoke, she relented. "In some ways." She rotated her arm. "This'll be sore for a few days, but it'll work fine."

"Glad to hear you approve."

She stopped. "I really was going to kill you," she said.

"I guessed as much. And now?"

"I'll think about it," she said. And smiled. And, for the first time, when she smiled, she didn't brandish her teeth.

For that one, shining moment, Knuckles lost his breath while looking at her.

Her knee jerked towards his groin.

He jolted backwards, clenching his legs together, but there was no threat. It had been a feint. He looked daggers at her, and she just laughed her haughty laugh. "Got to keep you on your toe-oes," she said in a sing-song voice. She turned and flounced her way out the door. There was nothing Knuckles could do but shake his head.

* * *

><p>"And be sure to ration the sake carefully, Ichiro," said Sonic. "The last thing we need is for everyone to be hung over when the bandits arrive. Just enough to calm the nerves and help people sleep."<p>

"Yes, sir."

"Make it happen." The peasant scurried off, bearing more than a passing resemblance to a rodent.

Tails looked at Sonic with crossed arms. "I don't know why you're doing this," he said.

"Doing what?"

"Stopping everything to let the peasants party."

"They normally have a feast after harvest."

"They don't normally have to go to war after harvest!"

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"I could have used this time," said Tails. "I need to shore up the south and east, erect a few more platforms for our archers, pound out a few more arrows… but I have no workers, because everyone's in on the feast."

"Yeah?" said Sonic. "How many arrows would the kids have made when their hands are shaking so much they can barely hold the stones? And how many more posts could you have made when the peasants are dropping their tools at every loud noise? And how many platforms could you have put in place when the peasants can't think straight because they have bandits on the brain?"

Tails opened his mouth to contest Sonic's words—then visibly relaxed. He exhaled slowly. "Heh. Sorry. It's been a while. I forgot how I get before a battle."

"I know you want to finish the job here," said Sonic gently. "But Tails, you're never done. You always think you can make things better. You were a born engineer. I respect you and love you for it. Right now, though, this feast will make the village stronger than a few extra fortifications."

"I suppose," Tails said. "And… and we both know that not everyone will live past tomorrow. Might as well let them have one last good day, right?"

"Right."

They shared silence for a moment. The thought worked its way through both their heads. They had been in too many battles for death to be distant or unusual. The peasants, on the other hand…

"Hey, Tails, let's take a walk."

"Sure."

Sonic and Tails began to walk around the village. Sonic praised Tails' handiwork openly, which always embarrassed him. In return, Tails teased Sonic every time someone was deferential or respectful towards him. He knew Sonic hated that behavior, and that being the leader was painful for him, which was why it was funny that he'd taken the job.

"There's Knuckles," said Sonic.

"Rouge is nowhere in sight."

"Why would she be?"

"Didn't you hear? Vector swears he stumbled in on them doing the nasty."

Sonic stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Huh. Not sure I buy that one."

"You don't?"

"Nah. But something's changed, that's for sure. Notice how polite they are to each other now?"

"Painfully polite. Spooky polite."

"Something's changed. I don't think it's hanky-panky. But you never know."

They walked along the south edge and looked out over the fields. The peasants had already fully flooded them. As Seiji had promised, the waters came high enough that a soldier carrying equipment would risk submerging with every step.

"The waters will take more than a moon to go away on their own," Sonic said. "That's what Seiji told me. Longer if it rains."

"If it rains too hard it'll flood the village," Tails pointed out.

"That's the risk we had to take. Seiji understood that when he flooded it to that level."

"You ever think that Seiji might be the brightest guy in the village?"

"Heh. Sometimes. He's certainly smarter than he seems. People get confused 'cause he's so quiet."

"You've never had that problem, Sonic."

"Nope! I'd rather the world know how dumb I am."

"You're not dumb, Sonic."

"I know. I just feel dumb sometimes."

"I mean, look at this place! I can't believe how much we've gotten done. We're readier than I could have imagined."

"It doesn't matter how ready we imagine we are," Sonic said, his expression suddenly serious. "All that matters is how ready we really are when the bandits hit us. They'll show us whether or not we're ready."

"There you go killing the mood again, Sonic."

"It's a hobby. You got Betsy all prepped?"

"Oh yeah. She's all set."

"Good. I knew she would be."

They walked on. They saw the peasants scuttling around, preparing for the feast. A few seemed to have already consumed their sake rations. The tension that had been rising steadily over the past days had melted away—at least to an extent.

"I'll need to at least show up during the feast," said Sonic. "I'll kick things off, and buzz around from time to time. The rest of us… I don't really expect you to be there. This is a peasant thing. We'd be in the way, I think."

"I agree. That's what I was gonna do anyway."

"Make sure the others know. They can do what they want, but they shouldn't feel obligated to be there. Oh, and make sure that Vector doesn't exceed his sake ration."

Tails smiled. "Will do."

"He's obnoxious enough without booze. Let's make sure we don't compound the problem."

They approached the entrance to the village. Sonic looked at it like it was an escape. After a moment, he said, "I'm gonna run for a bit."

Tails' expression was entirely too knowing. "Feeling the pressure, are we?"

"I can't hide anything from you. Yeah, it's starting to get to me. You can have my sake ration, if you want. I can't stomach the stuff."

"I've got no use for it. But I'll keep that in mind."

"See you in a few."

Sonic took off running. The fence blocked anyone from seeing him clearly as he dashed down the road—an impossible sprint for most, a brisk jog for him.

"Run all you want," Tails said to Sonic's back. "You can never get away. You never could."

He turned back into the village and headed for the warriors' house.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: An Eventful Eve<em>


	10. The Eventful Eve

Outside, there was music and levity and food and drink.

Inside, there was only melancholy. And drink.

Rouge flexed her hands restlessly. Shadow sat in his corner like usual, though his hand never left his sword. Knuckles cradled his burlap sack, lost in thought. Tails was tinkering with the horizontal part of his luggage, though what, exactly, he was working on was lost to view. Amy just tried not to scream. She ate with excruciating slowness to keep herself doing something.

Vector walked from one to the other. 'Walked' is maybe too generous a term. He had, in fact, exceeded his sake ration. He avoided Shadow all the same. Apparently the label of "faker" was unforgivable.

"Nervous, Rouge?"

She froze her hands. "Just exercising," she said.

Vector laughed. "If you were feeling your nerves, I'd have figured you'd have shacked up with someone by now."

She gave him a withering look. "What makes you think that?"

His return look was of the 'you've got to be kidding' variety.

"I'll let you in on a secret. Dressing this way doesn't mean I'll jump into bed at the drop of a hat. It means that I'm aware of my sexuality, and I'll use it—when and how I desire."

"Like yesterday morning, in here?" guffawed Vector.

"You don't know what you saw," said Rouge. If she felt shame or embarrassment, she was adept at suppressing it.

"Sonic says you use sex as a weapon," Amy interjected. She didn't look Rouge's way.

"Sonic has a big mouth," said Rouge. "Though I can think of a few others that applies to."

"Hey, hey, I was born a crocodile. 'S not my fault."

Rouge squeezed her hand into a fist. "Damn, I wish I could have had more sake. One drink doesn't faze me."

"You know your way around a bar?" Vector said.

"I could drink you under the table without even slurring my voice," Rouge said coldly. "That's just a fact. Alcohol is a spy's best friend. And worst enemy," she added.

"I didn't figure you'd be freakin' out this much," Vector said. "You've been in lots of fights before, right?"

"My fair share, on one job or another," Rouge said. "As a spy, or otherwise. But it was always on my terms. I set the time, place, and circumstances. I was always the attacker, so I was in control. This? This waiting? I don't care for it."

"So… you're a top?" Vector asked, leering openly.

"I've had just about enough of you," said Rouge. She curled her fingers. Metal came into view.

"Watch out, Vector," said Knuckles. "She'll turn you into a handbag."

"I can't stand this!" said Amy, rising. "Fight, fight, fight. We spend all our time and energy fighting each other. The bad guys are out there!"

"It's not like we're wasting it on ourselves when we could be using it on the bandits—they're not here yet," said Knuckles. "When they do come, they'll get all of it."

"If that's your plan, go ahead, but I'm not going to sit here and listen to it!" She stormed out of the room.

"She does love to make an exit," said Vector. Shadow opened his eyes, saw that she had left, and closed them again.

Amy fled from noise and turmoil, which meant she had to go to the south boundary of the village. She was able to slip along the outside of the fence and stand on the rampart above the fields. It wasn't quiet, exactly. But it was much, much better.

As if she didn't have her own jitters to worry about! How could anyone stand to be in there for long?

"Hey, Amy."

She whirled. "Sonic!" she said. "I thought you were at the feast."

"Here and there, here and there. I can't be there all the time or it hurts more than it helps." He spoke as if he expected her to know what that meant. She didn't.

"I didn't think you'd notice me."

"I notice a lot. Especially when it's bright pink and walking like an angry elephant."

Amy turned away again. "I was going crazy sitting in there with the others. Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight… it's bad enough that we're just waiting to fight tomorrow, but to wind each other up when we can't do anything…"

"…is hard, I know," Sonic finished for her. "That's one of the reasons for the feast, actually. It helps the peasants feel a little normal, takes their minds off things."

"Are you saying I should go to the feast?" Amy asked.

"No, I'm saying you should do something else that focuses your mind. Sword practice usually works for me, if I let myself get into it."

"I left my training sword in the room," Amy said vaguely.

There was a gentle hum of metal against metal. Amy turned. Sonic held out his sword to her, grip first.

"But that's your sword," she protested.

"I'm not jealous," Sonic said.

With clear reticence, she accepted the sword. It was heavy—heavier than she'd expected. She moved around with it experimentally. Heavier than a training sword, yes, but it moved naturally. The balance was perfect. It fit right into how she thought a sword must feel.

Sonic watched her approvingly. "Go through… let's see… routine three," he said.

She began to move through the routine. Step stroke refocus block counter-stroke. It was smooth, flowing, beautiful.

Sonic shook his head.

"Each move is its own thing," he said. "Each piece of a routine like this stands on its own. You remember movies, right? A routine isn't like a movie. It's like a slideshow. It's a bunch of single moves in a row. You're blurring things, and you're losing precision. Don't take it too far, either, and make everything all herky-jerky. Start over. This time, when you finish a motion, wait a second before you start the next one."

She huffed impatiently, but obeyed. Step, stroke, refocus, block counterstroke.

"Hold on. You started off good, but you're doing it again." She let her arms slump to her side. He gave her an amused expression. "You're acting like the point is to get to the end of the routine. The routine itself is the point. This is just like how you are without a sword, Amy. You know how things should be, you know what you're trying to get to, but you've got issues with how to get there."

Amy ground her teeth together in anger.

"Reminds me of how I was when I was younger, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was like that, too. Instead of trying to figure out how to make things better, I just rushed in and tried to wing it. I wish I'd known how much I needed a teacher. I thought I knew better. The way I saw it, what could someone else possibly teach me? What did other people know that could apply to me? I had more talent than any of them, I could move better than anyone I'd ever found. So I decided that I was the only person who could teach me."

"You're saying I'm like that?" she said.

"No way! You looked for a teacher, you're way smarter than I was. I was just saying about the routine. Uh… how can I describe this… Have you ever seen Shadow practice?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, then try to think back to when we saw him fight."

She pictured him in her mind. His cold bow, his colder swing. "I've got it."

"When Shadow swings his sword, there's no Shadow anymore. It's just the sword. Everything else goes away. See what I mean?"

Her brow knit as she concentrated. "I think so," she said dubiously. "I'm not sure I want to be like that, though. Shadow… he doesn't care why he fights, or who. He just does it."

"Yeah, he's a loose cannon. He thinks like a weapon. You're ahead of him there, Amy. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have really mean steel. What we want is to give you the best of both. We want to let your heart guide his sword. So think about how he does it, and start over."

She tried. It was difficult. She had to recite to herself before she began, There's no Amy, just the sword. There's no Amy, just the sword. She began the routine again.

Step. Stroke. Refocus. Block. Counter-stroke.

"Better," said Sonic. "Now try it slower."

There's no Amy, just the sword. It was working. She felt the barriers and trappings of her conscious mind fall away. No longer did she notice the buzz and clamor of the feast. No longer did the flickering of the torchlight draw her eye. None of it existed. Her thoughts stopped racing along and began to fall into place. Her swirling emotions stilled like the surface of a lake. Her mind would interfere no more. She did the routine again.

"Slower."

Step. Stroke. Refocus. Block. Counter-stroke.

The slower she performed it, the more difficult it became. She perspired even in the cool night air. Then she perspired for a different reason.

He was watching her.

Perhaps it was the small amount of sake she'd snuck for herself earlier. Maybe suppressing her conscious mind allowed her unconscious desires to run free in a new way. It's possible that she realized on some level that death, which she might encounter tomorrow, was permanent but virginity didn't have to be.

Whatever the cause, when he watched her perform the sword routine, she felt his eyes upon her as surely as an exploratory hand, chaste in its intentions but not in its effects.

When she felt those eyes upon her the subtext of their relationship bubbled up to the foreground. No longer could she—or would she—suppress her attraction to him. The attraction she'd felt from the start, mixed with the awe and admiration she'd felt from the moment she laid eyes upon him, was all the stronger for how long she'd denied it.

"Do the last move again, even slower."

You might think that this new feeling that was dominating her awareness would corrupt her focus. The opposite is closer to the truth. She needed to do this right because he asked it of her. More than anything else, she wanted to be worthy of him. So she began to obey. She raised the sword at first, simulating a feint for the head. Then she brought the sword around to her right and swung down, aiming for the juncture of neck and shoulder on her imaginary opponent.

"Hold still."

She froze, though it made her muscles burn with exertion. Then, all of her began to burn.

Sonic had stepped in by her side. He placed his left hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath washing over her cheek. Her mouth parted involuntarily. Her heart pounded traitorously in her chest.

He reached an arm out along hers. He made several subtle adjustments to the position of her hands, the extension of her arms, the angle of her wrists. Everywhere he touched tingled long after his fingers had moved on. She was suspended by his words even as her body demanded she move. Any form of release, anything to resolve this tension, any motion to feel her skin moving against his and let that wonderful feeling spread until it consumed her from head to toe…

"Again," he said softly.

She repeated the attack, ever-so-slowly. Her body flexed and twisted beneath his hands. Sweat rolled down her arms.

"Perfect," he whispered.

She let the sword drop to her side. Her breathing was labored—far too hard for the exercise she'd done. Her mind was a fuzzy white, like thick fog under a bright sun.

"Sonic, I figured it out," she said.

"Hm?"

"You said that you wanted to match up my heart with Shadow's swordsmanship. But that describes someone else even better." She looked him in the eyes. "That's _you_."

He shook his head. "I wish."

"But it is," she insisted. "Why do you suppose I chose you?"

"Search me," Sonic answered. "You just need experience and a little patience. Everything else you've got—faith and loyalty and skill and courage and determination. You're the whole package."

Amy's heart fluttered. She took several deep breaths to steady herself. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me," she said.

"People are stupid. I've said that before, I'm sure."

After a long moment, Amy realized she was still holding the katana. It had been so easy to forget, once she'd started thinking of it as a part of her. She reversed her grip and gave it back to him as he'd given it to her, hilt first. "Here you are, Sonic," she said.

He took it back and sheathed it. He was standing between her and the torchlight, but he was so much more than mere silhouette. She found it hard to breathe as she watched him. Sheathing the sword was a practiced motion, one he'd clearly done many a time. It was a smooth process, beautiful in its way, and, given Amy's state of mind, she found it more than a little suggestive.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Huh?" she said, coming back to her senses.

"Did we get your mind off of tomorrow's battle?"

"Oh… right. Yes, yes it worked," she said.

"Good."

"Sonic," she said, before he could turn away.

"Yes?"

"Could I ask you… a… well, a personal question?"

"Depends," he said. His voice had forced nonchalance, but his shoulders visibly tensed.

"What do you look for in a girl?"

"What do I—oh, no. I know where this is going."

"It was just a question," Amy said. She tried to make herself laugh. It came out as a cough.

"No, it's not. It's a trap. If I answer you, then you'll use the compliment I gave you earlier and wonder why…" he pulled up short, but the hot look on his face was unmistakable.

"Wonder why what?" she said.

"I'm not going to play this game, Amy."

"So there _is_ something wrong with me, then?" Amy said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I'm not good enough after all?"

"No!" shouted Sonic. "You're getting it all wrong!"

"I don't understand," she sniffed.

"Sir," he said softly.

"Sir."

"Why do you think I insisted you call me that? I didn't want this to happen. I wanted to create some distance between us. Don't you see? You're confused right now. The respect and admiration you feel for me as a teacher, it's twisting and turning and making you think you're attracted to me."

"I'm not confused," she said soberly. "Who says those feelings are exclusive? I can respect and admire you like a student… _and_ feel attraction to you like a woman is attracted to a man. It can all exist at the same time."

"That's why I focused things on teacher-student," Sonic said, though he could tell the argument wasn't reaching her.

She nodded. "I understand now." She took a step towards him.

"Don't!" he warned.

"I had it backwards. You _are_ attracted to me," she said in a neutral voice. "You're trying so hard to deny yourself. It's really hard work for you. You focused on teacher-student to keep my mind out of the gutter… and yours, too."

"You want to believe that, don't you? You're feeling the pressure of the battle, you've got hormones in full swing—you're letting yourself get pushed."

"You see right through me," she said. "And that's right, isn't it? That's how it should be. Why should we hide from each other? Sonic, I have nothing to hide from you. Don't hide from me, either."

"Amy…"

"Don't worry about it," she said soothingly. "I respect and admire you. You respect and desire me, in turn."

"Don't take another step," he said.

"Why? Why not?"

"I agreed to train you. No more."

"Things have changed, haven't they? Why cling to those words if we're different now?"

"You're different, Amy," Sonic said, shaking his head. "I'm not. Whatever I think about you, this isn't what I want."

That stopped Amy as his warnings had not. "Why not?" she said, voice trembling. "I don't understand. I know you want this."

Sonic could have said any number of things. "Not now," "not like this," "maybe later," "I can't right now"—any of those responses would have done. Or he could have given some explanation that amounted to the same thing. She would have accepted those placidly, knowing how weak they were, and how open-ended, and how open to revision.

What he did say was far simpler, and impossible to defend.

"No."

Her lungs worked furiously as her mind reeled in confusion. "No?"

"No."

She cast about for an answer—any answer. This wasn't supposed to go like this. "I… don't… are you gay? Is that why you call Tails your old wife?"

"If I said yes, would you stop asking me about this?"

He met her with anger for a moment, but she had none, and his faded. He looked to the ground. "If only it were that simple… no, you had it right. I… I do desire you."

Relief filled her. She began to move towards him again—

"NO!"

-and stopped just as quickly.

"I desire you, but that doesn't mean I'll head to bed with you."

"Why?" she shrieked. "I don't understand!"

Sonic's eyes were closed, his hands balled into fists. "It wouldn't be fair to you," he said. "You're going to have to take my word for it. It's… it's not good for either of us, in the end."

The explanation was so meager, so inadequate, that Amy was left waiting for the rest of it. But Sonic stood there, saying nothing, as if that was the end. Amy couldn't stand it. Her passion, unable to find an outlet, flared into anger. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded. "Are you saying I don't know what's good for me?"

"No, it's just…" he had trouble completing the sentence. Amy was impatient.

"Just what, huh? Just what?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Like I said, it wouldn't be good for either of us."

"Are you that bad a lover?" she asked acerbically. "Or is it me? You wish I had Rouge's rack, is that it?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, I can't tell what you mean. All I know is that… is that I offered you everything I was, after you said I was everything you could hope for in a girl… and we're still here, arguing!"

"I'm not arguing," he said.

"Then what do you call this, huh? Anyway, that's not the point! Ever since we met I've made it clear I'll do whatever you want! It's always been about what you want, what you'll allow, what you say is right. I've gone along with it, about everything. About being your student, about coming to the village, about training… it was always about you. Let this be about me, for once! Let me be right about something!"

"But you're not right," Sonic said.

Amy clenched her fists so tightly Sonic thought she'd draw blood. "Of course not, you've got more patience and experience and wisdom, _sir_." She drew out the last word, emphasizing it to the point of ridicule. "Except that every time you've been wrong! You were wrong that I shouldn't be your student, wrong that I shouldn't come here—and now you're wrong again! You're wrong for rejecting me, Sonic Hedgehog. You haven't gotten it right yet."

"Or, maybe you're proving that I was right in the first place," he shot back.

"I thought you weren't arguing," she sneered.

"I'm not. I just made my choice, that's all."

Amy's eyes widened and wetted. She heaved quick, large breaths. Her whole body trembled. It was impossible to tell whether she'd burst into tears or rip Sonic limb-from-limb, though doing both was also an option.

"Fuck you and your choice!" she shouted. She rushed past him and disappeared inside the fence.

Sonic didn't move. He stood there as if petrified. His mind raced on without him. Soon even her footsteps had faded.

"Hey Sonic, the next time you tell me that _I_ have a blind spot when it comes to females, I'm calling bullshit."

Sonic sighed. "How long were you watching, Tails?"

The fox jumped down from the cross-bar he'd been sitting on. "Long enough to hear you get called gay. That'd make me gay by implication, huh?"

"I forgot," said Sonic. "I don't know why I thought this might be different. Whenever male and female are together, the barnyard dance is always going on. You can bury it or hide from it or deny it, sure. But the subtext is always sex. I should have remembered."

"And now she'll hate you as fiercely as she loved you," Tails said. "You know, the whole 'hell hath no fury like' bit."

Sonic shook his head. He looked older than usual. He could have easily passed for forty, with fifty a possibility. He felt like he was a hundred. "Tails, have I changed?"

"Sure. You're old now."

"Seriously," Sonic insisted. "Since you've known me, have I changed?"

"Kind of an odd question."

"It's just… I feel like I would have handled that differently when I was younger."

"Well, yeah. In those days, you were young and full of hormones."

"And now?"

"You're definitely not young."

"Tails, I'm trying to get a real answer here."

"You want a real answer, fine." He walked around to stand in front of Sonic. He gave Sonic the piercing stare again, the one he'd learned since last they'd parted, the one that made Sonic want to squirm away from it. "You've gotten more patient. You're more experienced. You're also a lot more tired than before. Answer me one question, Sonic. When the peasants asked you to come to their village, did you ever consider saying no?"

Sonic hadn't been expecting this question, so he had to stop and think about it. It seemed so long ago that those peasants had flagged him down. "No," he said at last. "When they asked… I thought for a bit, but I was thinking about how tired I was, and how hard this was gonna be, and how I hadn't planned for it, and how it was such a bother. I thought all those things, but… I was always going to say yes.

"Now that I think about it," he added, "I don't think I could have been me if I hadn't said yes. I had all those negative thoughts, sure, but then again... this is what I live for."

"Then you haven't changed," said Tails triumphantly. "Not in any way that matters. You've still got a stubborn core that thinks it knows what's right in the world, and enough arrogance to think you can make that right happen. And good luck changing your mind. Time and tide can wear down your edges, but that just makes the surface smooth. It doesn't affect who you really are underneath it all."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"I always knew where to go for someone to say nice things about me."

"Sonic! I outgrew my hero worship."

"Really?"

"Not really," Tails admitted. "It still works on other people, too. Whatever it is—charisma or charm or sheer stubbornness. It's enough to get six warriors and a village to stand with you, even if Hell itself were to open up against us."

"That much, huh?"

"Yep."

"Between you and me, I'd rather fight off sixty bandits than Hell itself."

"Me too."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're much better than me when it comes to deep thinking."

"Hey, it's not your fault you're shallower than a puddle in the street."

Sonic chuckled. "I'm not sure if that's an insult or not." He frowned as something occurred to him. "Six warriors?"

"You said yourself Amy wasn't thinking with anything above her waist."

Sonic took it personally. "I did NOT say that!"

Tails laughed aloud. "No, you didn't. I was just—" He turned his head suddenly.

"I heard it too," said Sonic. He moved immediately into a sprint.

Drums. The sign of sighting the enemy.

The northern drums. The drums facing where the enemy was expected.

Sonic accelerated. He blew through the peasants, many of whom were trying to fit the meaning of the drumming into their food- and drink-addled minds. He tore past the warriors' hut, where Rouge was clambering out over a prone reptilian form.

Not now! Not tonight! They weren't ready, he'd told them to feast, to relax, and if the bandits came now they'd find the defenses unmanned and the peasants unable to fight and the blood would flow as badly as Sonic had ever seen it…

He didn't stop until he was at the top end of the Alley. He skidded to a stop. Clouds of dirt kicked up as he braced himself. He held his sword behind him, ready to draw at the slightest sign of trouble.

Trained senses were hyper-alert. Every shadow might hide a threat, every sound might betray his enemy's presence, every smell might be the first warning of what was coming—

But nothing came.

The drumming stopped abruptly. Sonic stayed in his posture regardless. Where was the enemy? How many, in what formation, with what weapons, where where where?

Still nothing came, and finally he was satisfied that nothing would. He relaxed and released the tension as much as possible. That burst of adrenaline was enough to keep him keyed up for a while yet. His shoulders returned to their normal height. His heartbeat began to slow, though it still hammered in his chest. His arm returned to his side, though it did not replace his sword. He wiped sweat from his brow. He had come so quickly, he hadn't even had time to don his gloves.

He turned around and jogged back down the Alley. He headed to where the drumming sound had come from.

Tails was standing above the gibbering form of a clearly-drunk peasant. The disgust on Tails' face was clear. Rouge was standing nearby. She shared Tails' expression, but was discreetly in the shadows.

"What happened?" asked Sonic.

"This moron thought that they needed more music with the feast," said Tails. He wasn't bothering to keep the temper out of his voice. "And he remembered there was a drum here, so he thought, why not?"

"I'm sorry!" whined the peasant. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

The peasant was kowtowing before Tails. His face was pressed into the ground. It was a gesture not unlike what the peasants showed the bandits.

Sonic realized that, and though it bothered him, it didn't bother him more than the false alarm had. He started to give the peasant a piece of his mind.

He stopped before the first word escaped his mouth. In his peripheral vision, he saw a crowd of the villagers standing nearby. Their eyes were open. Did they see what he saw? A warrior, standing with open contempt over a terrified villager?

Sonic fought with his anger, mastered it, and swallowed it. "Tails, back off," he whispered. Before he could receive Tails' baffled look, he'd already turned to the crowd. "Look around, all of you," he said in a neutral tone. "What's missing from this picture?"

The peasants turned from one to another, murmuring. Who knew?

"Your weapons, of course!" said Sonic. "The drums were beaten, and everyone knows that drums mean we saw an enemy. So why didn't you come ready to fight? I see twenty of you here, and only one pike and no bows. Good thing the bandits were never here!"

The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Embarrassment rose up and dominated their feelings.

"So tomorrow, when the bandits come, we'll be sure to do better, right? When we hear the drums, everyone will bring their weapons. Just like we trained these past five days. Nothing's different. You hear the drums, you go to your station, you bring your weapons, and you're ready to fight—and win. Everyone on the same page?"

Nods. A few of them even looked wonderingly at the drum-beater. Had Sonic ordered this, just to test them? Was this part of the plan?

"Remember, one set of drums too many is better than one set too few," he went on. "If you hit the drums and nothing's there, so what? No one's dead, and we made sure we got it right. If you decide not to hit the drums and there _is_ something there, then you may kill us. You remember Knuckles' first rule of pikes, right? No one can get behind us, or we're hosed. So play it cautious.

"Get used to hearing the drums a lot. I'm sure one of the tricks they'll try is to appear everywhere, at all times of day and night, to try and wear us down. You've endured their oppression for years. You can endure it for another few days. We'll wear them out before they wear us out. Understand?"

More nods.

"Good. Now everyone to bed."

The crowd moved, but unenthusiastically. Sonic grabbed the drum-beater by his arm and pulled him up—not roughly, but in a helpful manner. "That means you, too," he said. "Come on, get to bed. You want to be fresh tomorrow."

"Y-y-y-yes, of course, thank you, thank…"

"Don't thank me, just go to bed. And never do that again."

"Yes, s-s-s-sir…"

The crowd sensed now that there was nothing more to see, now that the drum-beater would not be punished. It dispersed as the peasants went back to their huts.

Tails shook his head with a smile. "Every time I see you, you outdo yourself. Don't you get angry anymore?"

Sonic glanced around before answering. "Oh, I'm angry," he hissed with a voice like escaping steam. "I'm mad as hell. But it's no good to anyone to show it sometimes. I had to do something to make that episode useful."

Tails nodded sagely, but Sonic was no longer paying attention. He was gripped by the sudden but strong wish that Amy had been there to see what had just happened. A lesson on controlling your anger was probably exactly what she needed about now.

If she'd still listen to him.

And that was dubious.

Sonic followed his own advice and headed back to the warrior's room. Stepping over Vector's motionless form, he went to his own mat to sleep. Amy was nowhere in sight.

The village slept, though uneasily. More than one person woke up during the night with unsettled thoughts. They had gathered their rice in days past. Tomorrow they would harvest the crop the bandits had planted. Tomorrow, they would reap war.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: War<em>


	11. War

ACT THREE: WAR

* * *

><p>The morning was cold—not unseasonably, but colder than recent days had been. A blanket of mist drifted over the country. It kept the land from getting bright, as if it was trying to delay daybreak.<p>

The peasants had no time for that. After so long waiting for this day, preparing for this day, dreading this day, what they wanted most of all was to get it over with.

Every one of them was at his station. For most, that meant either with a group of other peasants with a bow or pike, or at a lookout station with a drum and a bell. For the unfit and infirm, it meant waiting in the main hall, their makeshift hospital, armed with bandages and water and the dregs of technology's medicine. For a handful, it meant being in bed, so as to be awake and alert when time for the night watch came. Being only human, they were having immense trouble sleeping at a time like this.

The warriors were at their stations, also. Shadow prowled along the southeastern boundary. It seemed to others that he'd slept so much before to give himself supernatural alertness now. Knuckles waited with some pikemen in the west. He was unflappable, his attitude that of unshakable professionalism, and his charges fed off of it. Vector rallied the pikemen at the bottom of the Alley. His enthusiasm was keeping them keyed up, though no one could tell yet if that was good or bad.

Amy and Rouge paced amongst the archers along the northern edge. Rouge didn't care much for defense and Amy was noticeably though inexplicably furious, so neither was very helpful to the peasants in their regions. Tails waited with the reserves, tinkering with a weapon like none the peasants had seen.

Sonic was everywhere.

He was with the reserves, telling them to stay alert and making last-minute tactical adjustments with Tails. He was with the archers, reminding them to retrieve their arrows and noticeably though inexplicably avoiding Amy. He was with Knuckles, smugly saying that he'd picked the right guy for the job but getting no rise out of the echidna. He was in the southeast, visiting with the sentries and comparing notes with Shadow. He was in the north, instructing them to stick to the plan and telling Vector not to try for anything heroic.

He was in all those places, seemingly at the same time. Everywhere he went, the fear of what was to come receded a bit.

It returned slowly, but surely. None of the peasants had done something like this before. The lookouts stared at the mist with an intensity born of anxiety. Here and there, peasants prayed. Others made a show of preparing their weapons, though they had no expertise in the matter. Still others rocked back and forth because they could think of no other way to release their energy. Nervous conversations cropped up, only to die under the weight of unease and edginess.

The bandits had told them the day they were returning, but not the time. The suspense was enough to drive someone mad. The only consolation was the knowledge that it had to end.

The mist began to lift like the rising of a curtain.

A drum sounded. Sonic was there instantly.

At the edge of visibility, far down along the road, he saw something delightful.

The bandits were arguing.

It was hard to see, given the distance and the remnants of the mist. But clearly, the leader of this group of bandits was yelling at his subordinate. His subordinate was jabbing his finger at a map and yelling back. Sonic could imagine what they were saying. He grinned. So far, so good.

Map-man must have won, because the group leader decided to head for the village after all. The bandits kicked their horses up to a trot. They drew their weapons. These unexpected fortifications had them nervous. Nervousness made them angry. They had very physical methods of coping with anger.

The bandits turned their horses at the opening in the fence and rode down the Alley. The more observant ones saw heads looking out over the top of the Alley's sides. A line of peasants stood at the end of the Alley. A large crocodile was amongst them. That settled it for the bandits—something was definitely wrong, and the only way to fix it was to kill peasants until the wrongness went away.

The peasants lifted their pikes.

A fact that is sometimes forgotten is that a horse will not willingly run into a wall of pikes. Regardless of its training and the commands of its rider, a horse will fight momentum as hard as it can to avoid impaling itself on a spike. So when the peasants lifted their pikes, it didn't cause a wave of carnage. It caused a pile-up of horse and man, punctuated by angry cursing and loud neighing and wide-spread confusion.

That's when…

"Fire!" shouted Amy.

"Fire!" shouted Rouge.

The arrows the peasants fired didn't even have proper arrowheads. They were little more than sharpened sticks. It wasn't enough to penetrate armor or even plunge too deeply into flesh. And the peasants were only marginally more accurate than before their training. The makeshift nature of their weapons and instruction meant they couldn't be much better than that.

But they were firing at a giant mass of stationary targets. Even if they didn't hit what they were aiming for, they hit something. The arrows might not penetrate armor, but the bandits weren't armored everywhere, and the horses not at all. A few of the arrows were bound to find exposed flesh. The others hit horses and, though not lethal, caused pain and panic.

The horses tried to rear, but couldn't in the confined space. The bandits wanted more than anything to kill something, but they couldn't get in close enough to swing their weapons.

The arrows kept coming.

The leader had had enough. He bellowed a command. The bandits backed away as best they could with their spooked mounts. They turned and, under continued fire from the archers, fled back up the Alley.

"Let's chase 'em out, boys!" hollered Vector. The pikemen chased the bandits—slowly, clumsily, for the pikes were bulky and cumbersome. But they chased nonetheless, even though they had no hope of catching the bandits.

They reached the top of the Alley. "Alright, now back around," commanded Vector. He used his spear as a bar in front of some of the peasants to keep them from going forward. The peasants turned about—awkwardly, as they had to lift their pikes almost vertically—and retreated down the Alley.

Hope springs eternal. And maybe the bandit leader had gotten too used to seeing peasants' backs as targets. Whatever the reason, when he saw the peasants turning, he saw it as an opportunity. With another set of commands, he wheeled his fighters around and set them chasing after the peasants.

The peasants got almost two-thirds of the way down the Alley before Vector reformed them. They got their pikes into position before the first horses could catch up to them, and once the wall was in place, no horse dared to contest it.

"Fire!" came the shouts. Another volley of arrows enveloped the bandits. One of them fell from his horse, blood spurting from his neck. The others shouted in pain or frustration as the horses panicked and the charge was stymied. The bandits didn't wait for an order this time. The moment the attack stalled, they began to turn around and flee.

The peasants chased them again, but this time the bandits weren't stopping. The horses were wide-eyed with fear and frothing from exertion and wounds, and the bandits weren't much better off. They kept on riding down the road until only dust was visible.

The peasants turned to each other in wonder. That was _it_? Had they done it, after all of that? Was that all it took?

Elation began to set in. They'd done it! They'd driven off the bandits! No one had died—no one had even gotten hurt!

They began to cheer.

"Shut up!" said Vector. The cheering died immediately. "You don't get it, do you?" he said. "I saw this with organized crime all the time, before the fall. The bandits ruled you with the fear of violence. That fear is gone now. If the bandits can't rule with the fear of violence, they'll rule with actual violence until the fear comes back. All you've done today is guarantee that the bandits won't stop until you, or they, are dead!"

The elation of the peasants vanished quicker than the mist had.

"So get out there and get our arrows back, you heard Sonic," Vector chided. "Get as many arrows as we can, and get that dead bandit in here, he'll be useful."

From his observation post along the wall of the Alley, Sonic smiled. He'd anticipated having to get Knuckles in here to restore order, but Vector had done a wonderful job of doing just that. His estimation of Vector rose another couple of notches.

Tails appeared on the platform next to Sonic. "Well, it's a start," he said.

Sonic nodded. "A start. I counted twenty. You?"

"I agree. They weren't expecting anything, so they just sent twenty, with enough horses to carry the loot. Still, given the size of the tribute, I don't think twenty bandits could carry it all. Maybe the rest are coming later?"

"Maybe. That's why we were careful not to overplay our hand, here. We had to beat 'em with as little force as we could get away with. That way, when they come back, we'll still have a couple of tricks."

"Too bad we couldn't have killed more of those bandits."

"It's enough. We wounded a bunch of them. How much medical technology do you think they've got left?"

"Bandits? After this long? Probably not much."

"With any luck, we hurt them badly enough that one or two more will die from wounds, and then another two or three from infections."

"Low-tech warfare is nasty stuff."

"I'd never use the word "clean" to describe it, that's for sure." Sonic used a hand to shield his eyes and peered far into the distance. "Keep a sharp eye out, Tails. I'd expect another attack today."

"Feeling it in your bones?"

"I'm not that old. Just my feet. You're one to talk, you've seen almost as many battles as I have. Where do you feel it?"

"Tips of my tails. They twitch when a fight's coming. They were twitching all morning, and they're still twitching now."

"Your tails are always twitching."

"Yeah, but when it's about a battle, I actually feel it."

Sonic squinted. "Prep Betsy. Number three, I think."

"All over it."

* * *

><p>An undercurrent of tension was building again, but it wasn't so bad this time. Now that the peasants had tasted battle, though they might still fear it, it would not be the fear of the unknown that cast a shadow on their hearts.<p>

Here in the center of the village, where the reserve element was kept, they'd only heard the battle. They'd seen nothing. The news had spread quickly, though. The bandits had been beaten off. None of the villagers had been hurt. A good start.

The reserve element was mostly the peasants that had been with the warriors most. Kenji, Koji, and Seiji were all there, along with the two peasants that had tried to steal from the warriors that first night. Sonic's reasoning was impeccable: the reserves needed to be able to communicate easily with Sonic and Tails, to cut down reaction times. The peasants thought Sonic had a strange sense of humor.

Kenji beat the butt of his pike against the ground. "I wish sensei could see us now," he said.

Koji looked over at him. "What, see us sitting here, doing nothing?"

"See that it's working. See that we made it happen. See that, somehow, our last hope is panning out."

Koji didn't respond. Something was on his mind, Kenji could see.

Kenji gave him a nudge. "Hey, are you here?"

Koji started, and then slumped back down. "I suppose."

"Thanks, by the way."

Koji frowned. "For what?"

"For coming with me to get warriors. For being a part of this. For making this happen. It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"I can't take any sort of credit," Koji said.

"What do you mean? You were right there, you asked warriors like I did, you carried the rice we used, you helped us out, you…"

"I opposed it every step of the way!" said Koji. His words were like water bursting from a dam. "I thought it was a stupid idea! I never thought it would work! I came because I thought it would flop, and I wanted to be there to bring you safely home!"

He shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to look at Kenji, his shame was too great. "How wrong could I have been? Don't you remember? I fought with you every step of the way. I thought we should pass on Sonic. I was skeptical about Knuckles. I cast doubt on every plan you had, took exception to every idea. I was worse than useless."

Koji clung to his pike like it was the only thing keeping him standing. "Kenji, I… I'm so sorry! I didn't think it would work! I was so used to arguing with you that I couldn't see how you might be right. I can't take credit for anything that happens now, because… because the only reason I came was to watch you fail!"

Koji gasped out the last of his confession. Kenji just shrugged in response. "But you still came," he said.

Disbelief swept over Koji's features. "What, that's it?"

"What more is there?" said Kenji. "Whether you liked it or not, whether you meant it or not, you came. You were a part of it. Your complaints and arguments ensured we had conviction, since we had to pass your test first. If this works, you deserve as much credit as anyone."

Even though Koji had just declaimed his nay-saying nature, he could not help himself. "But what if it doesn't work?" he said with a wince.

"Then we'll be dead, and who cares?"

Koji shook his head. "You're a better friend than I deserve, Kenji."

"And you're a better friend than I could hope for, Koji."

With a thoughtful tone of voice, Seiji said, "I'd rather not die, given the choice."

Kenji and Koji looked at each other. They didn't have to say anything. They just laughed.

"What?" said Seiji suspiciously.

"You're very wise, Seiji."

"You can put things in perspective better than anyone."

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?" Seiji said.

"Of course not."

"Farthest thing from our… minds?"

As one, the peasants looked to the north.

Someone was beating a drum.

* * *

><p>The bandits left their horses behind this time. In the tight confines of the Alley they'd be a liability. Instead, a larger force of bandits moved up the road. Whatever deficiencies that had existed in their arms or armor were gone. Bandits they might have been, but they'd all been professional soldiers at some point. They'd just experienced an object lesson in the danger of their enemies. They would afford them professional respect now.<p>

A pair of their leaders followed on horseback. The bandits had a wide variety of weapons and protection, from padded leather to chain mail. Their leaders showed similar variety, with one wearing a shiny rounded breastplate while another sported samurai-style laminar scalemail. In spite of the variety, the bandits moved as a unit, not a mob. They were united by purpose and training. At the moment, that purpose was reducing the village to a charnel house.

The peasants awaited them. They kept their pikes up this time, as surprise was gone. Vector stood behind the line, his makeshift spear held high.

For a moment the bandits stopped to get themselves in order. The archers did their best to thwart this action. New volleys of arrows rained into the bandits. The peasants had used only their worst arrows this morning. They now turned to their better arrows, the ones with stone arrowheads. Many of the arrows hit. Some of them penetrated armor. A handful bit into flesh.

The bandits hardly wavered. Most of the arrows were harmless and they knew it. They'd come through much worse before. Their leaders bellowed the charge order.

The trouble with pikes, as the peasants were rapidly learning, was that all the power is concentrated at the tip. Once the enemy is past the tip, the pike is useless. Knuckles had drilled a principle into them that he called the first law of pikes. "No one gets behind you, no one gets to your flank. One swordsman behind a line of pikes kills the whole line. That's why we have to guard everywhere, all the time."

Now, the peasants realized, getting past the point of the pike had very similar properties.

The bandits closed in on the pikemen. The pikemen jabbed out with the pikes. One of them connected and hurled a bandit back, but his armor saved him from anything more serious than a bruise. His comrades, though still wary, pressed closer. They used their swords and spears to bat at the ends of the pikes, trying to create openings to push in.

The closer the bandits got, the harder the shots they gave to the archers. Soon the archers were only shooting at the bandits in the back of their group—and so did nothing to keep the bandits from pushing in.

One of the bandits danced between two pikes. He rushed forward. The peasants could do nothing but scream in fear. They had no protection, and the bandit's sword was very, very sharp.

It never swung.

Vector reached over the peasants—his massive frame was quite the advantage here. His spear fired outwards. It caught the bandit square in the chest. It stopped him completely. Vector realized the spear was all that was keeping the man up. When he tugged back, the bandit crumpled.

But fear caught the peasants in its grip. More bandits were angling between pikes now, and the arrows were doing nothing. The bandit leaders had sent spearmen towards the archers' stations. Sonic's instructions to the archers had been clear: if something threatens you, duck. The spearmen jabbed up at the archers, and though the archers hid behind their walls and escaped the danger, it meant they weren't shooting arrows.

The pikemen jostled the bandits as best they could, and Vector stabbed again and again with his spear to try and keep the bandits at bay, but it just wasn't working. Two peasants dropped their pikes and turned to run. The others backed away, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the bandits came on. Fear took on a life of its own. They surrendered ground to try and survive, and they didn't even do that well. One bandit caught up. His sword flashed. One peasant fell, then another, before Vector's spear answered. In so doing, as Rouge had predicted long ago, the spear shattered, leaving its blade in the body of the bandit and leaving Vector without a weapon.

It was too much! The peasants ran backwards, or dropped their pikes altogether, and Vector could do nothing to stem the tide. They surrendered the end of the Alley. Now the bandits would spread out, use their numbers to maximum advantage, and sweep on into the village—

A flash of blue.

The singing of metal against metal.

Gasps at the suddenness of his arrival and the swiftness of his strike.

An arc of blood as it was propelled away from its old body.

He came in from the corner of the Alley. They didn't see him coming until after the first blow had cut open a bandit's chest.

Sonic Hedgehog had joined the battle.

There was no expression on his face—except, perhaps, the hint of a smile, not that he'd killed, but that he was doing what he was meant to do. His white gloves stood out against the black leathers he'd donned and the metal of the sword. His eyes were unblinking. They saw everything. There was no surprising him.

He was fast—impossibly fast. The next closest bandit barely had time to turn before the sword sang again and separated his head from his shoulders. More bandits turned to fight him, and his sword lashed out again and again, keeping three and now four bandits doing nothing but defending against him, and his presence alone pushed those bandits back. They didn't even try to retaliate. Whenever they made a forward motion the katana was there like a sheepdog. Somehow he was able to move fast enough to fight four, even five bandits at once. They could only move backwards in the face of this assault.

Some of the bandits stalled rather than leave their comrades behind. The rest found a new group of pikemen in their way—the reserves Sonic had brought with him. The bandit rush stopped and the pikemen escaped. That was all the opening Vector needed. "Turn around, you sods, turn around! The bad guys are that way!" He gave a healthy smack to one peasant with the butt of his spear. The others quickly got the picture. In moments he'd rallied the pikemen and reformed them.

"Now it's our turn!" Vector hollered. "Charge 'em, boys!" And, even weaponless, he led them forward. His maw was gaping wide.

The bandits discovered that working your way inside a wall of pikes is a lot harder when those pikes are running at you. Men don't like charging walls of pikes any more than horses do. The prospect of a wall of pikes running at the bandits was similarly unappealing. A giant berserk crocodile was intimidating in its own right.

The momentum of battle shifted completely. Now the bandits fell back up the Alley. The speedy blue terror occupied a flank by himself, while the pikes jostled and pushed and occasionally struck the retreating bandits. The fleeing bandits subsumed the spearmen, and when they left their places, the archers rose again and added another reason to run.

The bandit leaders rode up to try and rally their charges. One of them was waving a scimitar broadly and shouting orders that you could understand even if you didn't hear the words.

There was a loud crack.

The bandit leader looked down at his chest. A long bolt, metal and almost two hands in length, had punched through his breastplate. It was as if the leader couldn't believe what had happened and needed to see the injury to make sure he was dead. Seeing it made him believe it. He toppled from his horse, lifeless as stone. The other leader decided the present situation would not be remedied by his death, and precluded that possibility.

Now there was nothing to keep the bandits from running. That's exactly what they did.

You couldn't run from Sonic Hedgehog. He gave chase. The katana flashed. One bandit fell, and was trampled by the peasants. Another fell, and three pikes impaled him within a moment.

That was enough.

Sonic reined himself in as the bandits escaped the Alley. He knew better. If he pursued any more, they'd encircle him. Every instinct in his body saw a running enemy and wanted to chase. Decades of war pulled him back. He was master of himself. He stopped. The peasants pattered to a halt behind him.

The bandits got away. Sonic let them go, even as he trembled with adrenaline and eagerness. He swung his sword to get the blood off and forced himself to sheathe it.

"Back to the village," he said, as much to himself as the peasants. He turned away from the bandits. Not seeing them helped.

There would be work to do in the village, he knew. Planning, salvage, medical attention for those who'd been hurt, juggling personnel to replace their losses, and he had to do it all. Somewhere along the line, when he wasn't paying attention, Sonic Hedgehog had become responsible.

He hated that work, but he didn't mean to avoid it. It took all his concentration to return to the village because that was the opposite direction of the action, and if there was one thing Sonic lived for, it was being in the thick of the action.

That was the real reason he'd set himself up as the reserve. Sure, it made sense to post people around to guard all the different angles. And it made sense to be able to move people around as required. He was tactician enough, now, to appreciate all that. But the real reason was that being in reserve meant he could go wherever the fighting was. He didn't have the willpower to fight that urge.

He had barely enough to return to the village.

It was a small victory, but it would do for now.

* * *

><p>Tails gave Betsy a kiss. "You did wonderful!" he said affectionately. He hugged Betsy to his chest.<p>

Sonic shook his head, a smile on his face. "Leave him be," he said to the other warriors. "Tails is geeking out for a moment."

Tails gave Sonic the look a music critic gives a pop artist. "You just don't appreciate the beauty of good engineering," he said.

Rouge had an unimpressed look. "Tails, you're mooning over it like it was a woman. It's just a crossbow. Who cares?"

"This isn't _just_ a crossbow," Tails said. "Anybody can make _just_ a crossbow. Betsy is unique."

It was. The crossbow was large, almost three-fourths the height of its owner. It had a scope. A stirrup extended from its front. It had not one, but three notches along its length. A winch arrangement rested behind the third notch. The crossbow was painted blue. The word "Betsy" was painted in very neat orange script ahead of the front handgrip.

"It got the job done, anyway," said Sonic. "I'm gonna check the lookouts, make sure everything's on point. You guys chill."

Tails looked at Amy with hope in his eyes. "Wanna hear more?" he said eagerly.

Amy's return look was of the I-don't-know-how-to-politely-say-no variety. Before it could register with Tails, Vector flung the door curtain open and roared in. "Was that a battle or _what?_"

"So," Amy said hurriedly, "what's special about Betsy?"

Tails' face burst into a smile. "Betsy's really versatile. I can use these three different firing positions. I have three different types of bowstring I use, depending on how much energy I want. It's a trade-off between power and rate of fire. If I use the bowstring with the least tension, I pull it back to the first position. I can pull the string with just my strength and the stirrup, so I can get off a shot every twenty seconds or so. When I really want to make myself known, I use the max tension string and the third position. I have to use the winch to draw the bow with that setup. It limits me to a shot a minute."

"I bet it tires you out, too."

"Nothing I can't manage."

"What did you use today?"

"Third position. That's how I was able to punch through that bandit's armor. It went through so far it was hard to get the bolt back out! I had to undo the armor and pull it the rest of the way through."

"So you have your own arrows, too," said Amy, looking at his quiver.

"Bolts, and yup! It's a shame, but by the time I realized I needed a really good low-tech weapon, most of the technology to make really good weapons was gone. I would have loved to use carbon fiber more. I had to settle for hollow metal for the bolts."

"Hollow?"

"Except for the arrowhead, of course. Keeps the weight manageable."

"But it means you have to salvage every arrow," Amy protested.

"Bolt," Tails corrected again. "Your guess is right, no one can make these anymore. I used to have a good number of specialty bolts, too. I had explosive bolts, incendiary bolts, shrieker bolts that made a lot of noise as they flew, for signaling… I've used 'em all up except for the plain old metal penetrators. There's no helping it. Betsy's too powerful for wooden bolts. The acceleration warps them and they don't fly straight."

Amy looked at the front of the crossbow. "What's that stud on the end for?"

"A stand."

"You're kidding me."

Tails grinned. "I didn't bring it with me, but I've got a stand I can use with Betsy. That's for when I'm pretending I can hit things really far away."

"Pretending?"

"You can only squeeze so much out of a crossbow. No rifling is the killer—it makes the wind a real problem. Under perfect conditions, though, Betsy's range is more than people imagine."

Enough people had given Vector the cold shoulder that he gave up. He was still full of undirected energy, so he left the room again to talk with the peasants. Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Tails, sensing he'd lost his audience, reluctantly started to disassemble Betsy for storage.

"Do you think the bandits will attack again tomorrow?" she asked Tails.

"Why? You eager to get in on the action?"

"No no no," she said, waving her hands. "I was just wondering. You've seen way more battles than I have, so if anyone would know, it'd be you or Sonic."

Tails' chest puffed out a little at the compliment. "Well," he said in a modest tone of voice, "there's no way to be sure about this. I'm just working with a few assumptions."

"Then work with them," she prompted.

"My guess is no. This wasn't the full force of bandits. It was a detachment. Twenty bandits and one officer hit us the first time, thirty and two the second time. As near as we can figure, they had an advance party there to cow the villagers, then another group to help them secure the loot. They know, now, that that won't be enough to take this place. So they've gone home to try and figure it out. The other leader will have to explain to the boss bandit what happened, and then they'll have to decide what to do from there. It'll take time."

"Oh good," said Amy, visibly relaxing.

"It's just a guess," Tails said sternly.

"Oh, I know. But it makes sense."

She felt eyes upon her. She looked around and realized it was Shadow. It was almost an expectant look he gave her. She looked back to Tails. Tails glanced at Shadow, then made a big show of working on Betsy—implicitly releasing her from the conversation. Grateful, she walked over to Shadow. Instead of waiting for her to sit, he stood and exited the room. She followed with a curious expression. Behind her, three pairs of eyes watched with keen interest.

She followed him past where the night watches were gathering, past where the pikes and arrows were gathered, past the pile of arms and armor looted from the dead bandits. The last was a grisly sight, since those possessions hadn't yet been cleaned. Amy felt queasier looking at the bandits' belongings than she had looking at their corpses.

So this is war, she thought. We kill our enemies, and use them to get stronger so we can kill their friends. Everything is a weapon.

The thought made her shiver.

Shadow walked around to the southern edge of the fence, eerily similar to where she'd fought with Sonic. She tried not to think about that too much. She resolved, instead, that if she ever needed to have a private conversation, she'd find somewhere else for it.

Their only company was a distant, barely-awake sentry. He glanced at them once, then turned heavy-lidded eyes back towards the distance. Shadow made sure he was out of earshot before stopping.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said.

Amy was well-practiced at dealing with Shadow, so she knew better than to rush things. That didn't stop eagerness from bubbling up within her. It just helped her contain it. "Yes?"

"Why do you fight?"

She overcame her surprise and took it in stride. "It's like I told you earlier. I hate seeing people so helpless in this crazy world, and I know I can make the world a better place."

"Better for who?" he asked. Genuine puzzlement was in his voice.

"For everyone, I suppose," she said. "Or at least for the people I meet."

He shook his head slowly. "That's completely alien to me," he said. "The idea of fighting for others is… beyond me."

"Why do you fight, then?"

He shrugged. "Why does a plague spread? Why does a scorpion sting? It's my nature."

The nonchalance of his answer made Amy's jaw drop. "That's it?" she said. "No, sorry, sorry… ahem. That's it?"

"What more would there be?" he asked.

'He thinks like a weapon.' Sonic's words echoed in Amy's head. "You're going to have to tell me more."

"There is no more. No past. No future." He put a hand up against one of the fence rails. "When you described your past, it made sense why you fight, a little bit at least. That is… I could tell it would make sense to you, even if it didn't to me."

"You mean internal consistency?" she offered.

"I suppose. Even if I couldn't understand what you were thinking, I could tell how you'd gotten there. Me, on the other hand…"

He didn't say more. Amy waited, but he was lost in thought. "When you say you have no past, what do you mean?" she prompted.

He blinked at her. "I didn't think it was confusing," he said. "I have no past. I have been the same as long as I can remember. I think back to what I was before, and it's the same as now. I awoke in a metal room, with this sword nearby. I knew how to use it, and what would happen if I did. That was all."

"There wasn't anyone there? No one to talk to or… anything?"

"No," he said. "I thought that went without saying. When I left the room, there was nothing but destruction and desolation outside. I couldn't tell what it might have been. It was all pulverized beyond recognition. There wasn't a living thing in sight."

"How long ago was that?"

He cocked his head. "How would I know? I haven't kept track. There's no point."

Amy didn't know what to say. He seemed to sense the gap, and felt the need to fill it. "I spent a while after my awakening thinking. What was I? Why did I exist? What was I supposed to do? You had a past. Your identity came from it. I had to create one for myself. It's harder than it sounds.

"With no past, I couldn't even prove to myself that I existed. I had no idea where I came from or why. I just… was."

Amy nodded after her initial surprise. Things were starting to come together. "When you said that I probably existed… you have trouble admitting other people exist when you don't even know if you exist, right?"

"Yes. All the trappings of existence—history and identity and purpose—I didn't have them. All I had was a sword and the ability to use it. So I fell back to that. That's all I am. The hand that swings the sword, and the eyes that aim it, and the brain that knows where to place it, and the legs that transport it."

Amy's eyes darted to Shadow's sword. Sonic had pointed out its lack of defense. It was more than a symptom of Shadow's preference for the attack. If Shadow's hands weren't real, what use did he have for a handguard?

Shadow continued. "No one else exists, either. If I can't prove I exist, how can I prove others exist? I only know for sure at the moment when my blade strikes home. That's when I know the other person existed—when I deny them their existence to vindicate mine.

"No past. No future. My life is the flash of a sword. I'm not alive unless I'm in battle. I have no purpose if my swordsmanship isn't being challenged. In the moment of victory, that's when I can see—if just for a moment—that I exist. That's all there is."

It explained so much it staggered Amy. The paranoia, the anti-social behavior, the boredom, the lifelessness, the cruelty—all symptoms of Shadow's existence as nothing but the hand that swings the sword.

"I feel sorry for you," she said. "Not only are you lonely and miserable, you don't even understand the depths of your misery. You never knew the alternatives." He gave a single slow nod in response.

But it didn't explain everything. It was time for the question Amy had been dying to ask since the conversation began.

"Why tell me this?" she said.

Shadow opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth again in frustration. The process repeated several times. The furrows in his brow became deeper each time. Amy wished she could help him, because she understood the problem. He was trying to explain something he didn't have the words for. He wanted to say something in a language that was foreign to him. Without knowing what he meant, though, she could do nothing to help him—and that left her as frustrated as him.

They stood there for several long moments while he tried to work it out. A gust of wind interrupted them briefly. When it was over, Shadow moved for his katana.

Amy's eyes focused on his sword. Shadow turned away from her and began an exercise routine. It was not dissimilar to the ones Sonic had taught her—at least, the forms were not. The execution could hardly have been more different. Each action he took was complete and stood on its own. It had a precise range of motion, start point, and stop point. Yet they came in rapid succession, one following on the heels of the other, with a speed that suggested that he had never stopped, and never would. It was the purest expression of skill Amy had seen. Shadow was able to thrust with his sword to an exact level of extension, halt the motion, and proceed to the next—each one of the actions discrete and discernible—and still make the moves rapid as actual combat.

Then he turned.

He began to swing before Amy could react. Her mind was in control enough to keep her from moving, and that saved her. Shadow had flowed into another routine, one Amy had never seen. One, she quickly decided, that no one had ever seen—because Shadow was modifying it on the fly. What was happening? The blade sliced through the air, cleaved the wind, and moved with enough force to pierce armor and sever limbs, all with total control.

All without touching Amy.

Each one of Shadow's attacks ended with the blade a hair's breadth away from her body. None of them touched her, even though surely all would have if followed to completion. She dared not move, even tremble, lest she thwart his accuracy.

His eyes never moved. They looked past her, through her—yet, inevitably, at her. It made her shiver.

Her question changed as she stood there, watching him exert himself. He wasn't showing off. A being certain of his skill had no need for that. He was trying to communicate. He was falling back to the only language he knew, the only language that could express his thoughts. If Shadow was the hand that held the sword, then swinging the sword was more intimate than speech.

What was he saying?

Swish, swish, swish, went the sword. Amy looked past it, past the look of intense concentration on Shadow's face, into the place where swords live.

You exist.

That had to be it. Even more definitively than Shadow could prove to himself that he existed, he knew that she existed, because she had changed him. His first demonstration had shown her what he was like on his own. This one showed that, because of her, things weren't the same.

She recognized a second level of meaning. Hadn't Shadow said he only knew people existed when he cut them down? Then for him to recognize her existence without drawing blood…

He ended the routine. The sword remained where it was for a moment. Its tip was so close to her throat that, if she'd had an Adam's apple, swallowing would have caused sword and skin to meet.

Slowly he withdrew the sword and sheathed it. She noticed for the first time that he was breathing heavily with exertion. Communicating had taxed him, and it was all the more precious to her because of it.

"We should sleep," Shadow said as he started moving. He headed back into the village. "We should be ready in case the bandits come back," he clarified when he saw Amy's confused expression.

"Of course," she said, and hastened to follow.

They said nothing more. In their own ways, they'd said enough.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Lull<em>


	12. An Uncalm Lull

There was no attack the next day.

The peasants would have met it if there had been, for they remained ready. They all stayed on post except for the handful that would be the night lookouts. It was harder than they expected. They'd thought that the wait for the first battle had been the worst. They'd been wrong, for this was strenuous in a different manner. They'd known beyond doubt that the bandits would return that day, and from where, so they prepared to meet the known. They had no idea any more where or when the bandits would strike, so their imaginations ran free.

Even those with little imagination had trouble with the strain. It's hard to remain focused for even an hour or two when you don't know what you're looking for. Remaining focused for an entire day approaches the impossible, and taxes those who attempt it.

Around noon came the news that one of the peasants injured the day before had died. He was their first fatality. They took it hard. His name had been Ryoga. He'd been a farmer before the collapse, and so had been of great help to the village as they tried to cope with the world's changes. They spent a good deal of time reminiscing and sharing stories of what they remembered or imagined of Ryoga, and even those who'd quarreled with him saw him in a more favorable light now that he was safely dead.

His death created no stirrings for vengeance, no battle cries. His manner of death had been too ignominious—cut down during the retreat, then trampled by both sides during the battle. He had been neither for nor against hiring warriors, and had gone along with the village's decision in all things, which made his death seem that much more random. All it did was remind the peasants, as if any needed a reminder, that they were playing a very dangerous game.

He was the first to fall. Even the most optimistic knew he would not be the last.

* * *

><p>The colors of twilight were painted across the sky. Kenji and Koji shivered in the cool evening air. Of their group, only Seiji seemed unaffected.<p>

"This is the third day," said Kenji, "and still no second attack."

"I spent all this time hoping they wouldn't," said Koji. "Now I wish they would, just to get it over with."

"You and me both," said Kenji. "I never imagined the waiting would be worse than the fighting."

"That's because when we were fighting, we weren't thinking," said Koji. "It was like a dream, wasn't it? Everything was so simple. We ran when Sonic ran, and we lowered our pikes when we got there, and then we charged when Vector said charge… I don't believe I had a single thought the whole time."

"I know what you mean," agreed Kenji. "It was all action, no thinking. This? This is all thinking, no action. I hate waiting."

"I hope the bandits don't delay too long," said Seiji.

"How long's that?" asked Kenji curiously.

"Planting time," Seiji replied.

"Planting ti—but that's not for months!"

Seiji nodded in agreement.

"I don't get it," said Kenji. "We've got enough rice to see us through all next year, even with the warriors. So what if they wait until spring?"

"I don't want to be cooped up here that long," said Koji. "This place wouldn't be a sanctuary anymore. It'd be a prison. We can't leave right now, can we? Because the bandits might be out there, they might attack at any time. We're trapped."

Kenji said, "I hadn't thought about that. Come to think of it, everyone leaves once in a while—to hunt or fish or get materials or just get out for a bit. If we can't do that… yeah, I can see that being a problem."

"That's not what I meant," Seiji mumbled to himself. The others heard him all the same and looked to him expectantly. He fidgeted. "At planting time, we have to leave," he said.

His companions got a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. "You're right," said Koji. "Everyone's in the fields at planting time. If they attack us then…"

They heard someone pushing past a door-curtain. They turned to look. Rouge was exiting the warriors' hut. She stretched a bit, which the peasants found most interesting, but they didn't seem to exist to her. There was an eager expression on her face. When she was satisfied, she headed for the fence. She was in a headlong run before she got to it, then leapt up improbably high and gently floated over it. The peasants stared after her. Apparently being a bat meant most rules didn't apply to you. Once on the other side, she melted away into the growing shadows of night.

"What's she up to?" wondered Kenji.

"What is she ever up to?" said Koji.

"Good point."

* * *

><p>Two more days passed in quiet but growing tension. Soon everyone was wishing, as Koji had, that the bandits would attack them. It would remind them that the war was still going on.<p>

Not that the warriors weren't doing their best in that regard. They continued to train and drill the peasants, who, having now been bloodied, had a renewed interest in learning. Knuckles and Vector were harsh taskmasters in this regard. Amy was perhaps not as harsh, but no less exacting.

Under Tails' direction, the peasants continued to make arrows, and soon had replaced almost all of what they'd used. He also snuck out from time to time to gather the loose branches from the trees they'd cut down.

Sonic participated in all of this, and was nonetheless quite distant. From time to time, he could be seen sitting alone atop the main hall. He would look out in the direction of the Alley—would stare, if anyone could follow his eyes well enough, at the place where the bandits had broken the line of pikes and shed peasant blood.

He would stare, and wonder.

* * *

><p>They were eating when Rouge came in. Not came in—made an entrance for herself. She knew the difference, and was nothing if not self-promoting. She was visibly tired but wore a triumphant expression. "I found it," was all she said.<p>

The warriors mumbled uncertainly, but she was looking at Sonic alone, and he understood her meaning. "Excellent," he said as he rose. "Let's get to work. Amy, I'll need your map-making skills."

Amy didn't even look at him. "My hand is cramped from sword practice," she said evenly. "There's no way I could do that kind of writing."

Even Rouge was impressed by the audacity of her lie. Sonic blinked at her once, then let it slide, to the amazement of all. "It can't be helped. Hope it feels better. C'mon, Rouge."

Shadow opened his eyes once Sonic had left. "Your hand is fine," he said without accusation.

"He was about to ask me for a favor, and I'm not here to do favors," Amy replied. There was more defensiveness in her voice than, perhaps, she'd intended. "I'm here to fight for the village. That's all."

Tails stirred with anger at that. "Get over yourself. Remember how he said that your maps would save lives? Doesn't that matter anymore? Isn't that fighting for the village?"

"Sonic can get along without me," she said firmly. "He's said so himself." It was intended to be a final pronouncement, and it worked. Soon Vector wondered aloud what, exactly, Rouge had found, and Amy's reticence faded from the others' consciousness.

Except for Shadow's. He continued to look at Amy with a blank expression. She avoided looking back for a time. It didn't work. He was patient as bedrock. When Amy gave in and looked to him, he said nothing, but she felt accusation.

You lied to him. You're angry at him, so you lied to him. He's the military leader and he was perfectly in his rights to ask you for a map. You denied him out of pique. It'll cost the village in the end. You couldn't admit even that. Tails called you out on your lie, and you didn't have enough shame to care.

He said none of those things, but somehow she felt them out on his face. Perhaps she was seeing in him a reflection of her own thoughts; maybe she was projecting her guilt onto Shadow. Realizing she was doing that should have made it go away, but it didn't. She looked even closer at Shadow and saw the smallest of motions. He was shaking his head, at such a low tempo that only Amy could tell. Her cheeks burned at the rebuke—not because she felt that what she'd done was wrong, nor because her conscience was getting to her. No, it was because somehow, she'd disappointed Shadow.

It meant, she thought in a rush, that he cared, and that was startling. Even more startling was the realization that broke upon her like a wave upon a rock—that she cared that he cared, that what he thought mattered to her, that even a mild rebuke should bring her embarrassment. Her pulse quickened. She lifted her face to speak to him—but his eyes were closed, and his posture suggested that they'd never been open. Shadow had said his piece, and he'd done so without giving anyone else even a hint that it had happened. Amy could say or do nothing.

She held her training sword tight to her chest, and wrapped her loneliness around her like a shawl.

* * *

><p>"The bandit hideout," pronounced Sonic. He unfurled a new map—one that, Amy noted with some satisfaction and a splash of guilt, was sloppily drawn and out of scale—showing the location of the hideout in relation to the village. Next to it, he placed a second map with the layout of the hideout.<p>

"I've had Rouge looking for the place, and she's come through for us."

"Oh, it's nothing that would belong on my resume'," she said, though she preened as she spoke.

"Walk us through it."

Rouge's face snapped to an all-business demeanor. "A series of hills separates the village from the hideout as the bat flies," she said. "It's heavily wooded, though there's not enough underbrush to make it a real hassle. The road runs down along the base of the hills, so it twists and turns like a dying snake. The hideout is set well back from the road. That's where I dislocated my shoulder, actually. I'd found the hidden entrance to the path, then had to go to ground when some of the bandits came out of it. I did a sloppy job of it. At least I knew I was in the right place.

"The hideout itself," she continued, "is in a natural bowl with hills on three sides. On the west side, there's a 50-degree grade to make the edge of the camp secure, with an equally sharp drop-off on the other side of the summit. That's the good side. The north and east are all but inaccessible. The south has their main entrance. It's walled-off with real fencing and an actual gate, with barbed wire over the top. The watchtower here in the southeast controls the approach."

"Pretty nice set-up they've got," said Tails appreciatively. "A natural fortress."

"You're right about that. A stream flows out of this cave on the north side. It cuts the camp into two pieces and gives the bandits an inexhaustible water supply. This eastern cave I figure as the treasure vault; it's got a heavy portcullis on it. I could have cracked it, but I thought it best not to… tempt myself."

She paused for only a moment. The others filled that moment wondering what she could have meant. "The main barracks is here, in the shadow of the watchtower," she went on. "Officer's quarters here, armory, machine shop—for the robots, of course—stables here. The stream isn't deep, though they built two bridges anyway. The three big buildings on the other side are the granaries. Based on their size, I figure they get more rice than they can possibly eat, so they must sell the rest for a nice profit."

Amy bridled a bit at this. "Hmph… taking people's rice so they can sell it back to them… despicable!"

"I prefer 'enterprising'," Rouge said. "I didn't watch for very long, but it looks like traffic to the granaries is minimal, most times. They tend to stay on the populated side of the stream. The watchtower is continuously manned by two guards. Well, it's supposed to be. I saw one sneak away during the night. As long as I was watching, discipline was pretty lax."

Knuckles huffed. "And why not? They could withstand a siege forever. It'd be hard to sneak in with enough force to do anything."

Sonic looked at him. "That's your opinion?" he said.

"I said it, didn't I?"

"What's your real opinion? Your _professional_ opinion?"

Knuckles looked sharply at Sonic, to which Sonic made no reaction. Knuckles looked like he'd bitten into something sour. He visibly wrestled with himself for a moment, then gave in. "Oh, fine. This place's defenses were designed by someone who was sure it'd never matter. The tower is here to keep an eye on the bandits, not the outside. See how there's a clear line of visibility between the officers' quarters and the barracks? Here on the west side it has huge blind spots behind the granaries. Come in from here, here, and here, and you can torch the granaries without them noticing until too late."

"Heh, you read my mind," said Sonic.

"The granaries?" said Amy, stumbling over the idea.

"You bet," replied Sonic.

"Why?"

"Tell you in a minute. Shadow, how much speed do you lose on a 50-degree grade?"

Shadow shrugged. "Some."

"How about with a rope to hold on to?"

"Almost none."

"Perfect. We'll drop in granary-side, like Knux said. We'll tie up ropes on any trees we find. Tails, Rouge, you'll be one group. Shadow, you're with me in the second group. The fliers will drop the ropes over the wall to make it easy to get back. Tails, you'll get this granary. Shadow, we'll take this one. After the guard changes out, we'll light the fires, meet up at this granary, and torch it together. If they're as big as you think, Rouge, I figure we'll have to get all three. Soon as the third one's lit, we're out of there."

Rouge frowned. "We'll be able to get away, sure," she said. "But it'll take them maybe seven seconds to figure out who did it. Once they do, they'll be good and angry. They'll hit the village straight away."

"That's the idea, but I see what you're getting at." He gave her a thoughtful look. "Ever run a marathon?"

She tossed her head imperiously. "Why would I ever run a marathon?"

"This matters, Rouge. Shadow and Tails are in my league for speed. You're going to be the slowest one in our group."

Knuckles looked like he was going to make a wisecrack at Rouge's expense, but thought better of it.

"I have done some distance running," she said with uncharacteristic caution. "At my best I could do a 5k run under eighteen minutes."

"We've got a lot more ground to cover than 5k. We'll help you out. Shadow and I will break the wind for you. If we can set that pace for the full distance, they won't catch us. But just in case… Amy, Vector, Knuckles, meet us here. With the seven of us together, anybody who somehow keeps up will think twice about messing with us. We'll take the chance to scoot back into the village."

"And prepare to get hit with all they've got," said Knuckles grimly.

"Bingo. Just so everyone's clear, we do this, and we'll make those bandits angrier than a wet cat. They'll break out the robots for sure. But it's the only way forward."

Rouge shook her head. "I still don't understand. I thought horses are faster than we are."

"They're fast, alright, but only in sprints. They lose out over long distances. We'll leave 'em in our dust."

"So long as they don't catch us as soon as we start out," Tails pointed out.

"Good point," Sonic said. "In that case, we'll need a head start. Hm… we'll have to toss a torch at the stables."

Amy was visibly upset by this, but held her tongue. Sonic noticed. "We don't have to burn the stables down," he said. "Just spook the horses. We scare them and the bandits will be in no condition to chase us. Plus," he put his finger to the map, "the stables are closer to the barracks than the granaries. The first fire they'll fight is the stables fire. Meanwhile, the granaries burn."

"And the granaries are the real target," Shadow said.

"Exactly. Any questions?"

Rouge gave him a playful look. "Are you always this brilliant, or only when you have perfect information?"

"Even a blind squirrel finds a nut," Knuckles said.

She gave him a pitying look. "The riposte to that is entirely too easy. I'm sure you can imagine it, so I won't bother saying it."

"So, no questions," Sonic said with exasperation. "Tomorrow evening we'll hit the road, then. Amy, stick around."

When only Sonic and Amy were left in the room, she slipped the leash. "I wonder why I keep quiet sometimes," she said.

"Because if you didn't, it'd cost everyone time instead of just me."

"Oh, is your time sooo valuable?" she said mockingly.

"I'm here, aren't I? Of course, if you're not gonna actually say anything, I can jet, no problem."

"I thought you were supposed to be the good guy."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You'll have to explain that one."

"That rice isn't yours," she said. "It's stolen property. It should be returned to its rightful owners. You can't just destroy it."

"Sure I can. That's the whole plan."

"No!" she said, stomping her foot. "It's not right! Other villages are starving, just like this one! They need help, too!"

His expression was patient and indulging. "And when we kill the bandits—which, by the way, this village hired us for, not those others—then we'll be helping those others."

"If you destroy that rice, it's like admitting it belongs to the bandits after all. It's not right. It's not justice."

"Amy, if there were a way to kill the bandits and return the rice, great, we'd do that. There isn't."

"Ha! So, you know you're doing something wrong?"

Sonic flinched. "I told you before, the solutions to this world's problems are messy."

"So that's it?" she said after waiting for a moment. "You just give up on doing the right thing because it's too hard?"

"I'm open to suggestions," said Sonic. He was trying to regain a casual demeanor. It wasn't working. "This is all I could come up with."

"I don't think you ever really thought it through," Amy said. She wielded her voice like a wrecking ball to demolish what was in her way. "You're impulsive, Sonic Hedgehog. You do the first thing that comes to you. That's what you're always telling me to do. 'Trust your instincts.' 'Don't hesitate.' 'Just go for it.' 'Your first thought is best.' It makes you terribly short-sighted, and it's going to hurt a lot of peasants."

Sonic shook his head. "Except it won't. To those other villages, the rice is already gone. It's a write-off. They won't know any better."

"And that makes it okay?"

"Who cares? _This_ village hired me, not one of those others. I owe them nothing."

"You don't believe that," she said, crossing her arms. "Somewhere beneath your glib one-liners, you truly think you're the good guy. Isn't that what you told me before? You're the hero of this adventure."

"And aren't we the good guys?" said Sonic, losing his composure. He pointed out towards the horizon. "They're the bandits! They're the bad guys! They stole and hurt people, they rule by fear, and they'll kill anyone who stands against them. We're gonna stop 'em. So we're the good guys."

"Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop you, when you become the bad guy?"

"I'm not the bad guy!" Sonic exploded.

"You're working on it."

As Amy watched, Sonic withdrew into himself. He regained control of his posture and his voice, but his body betrayed his emotions—his breathing was audible and his eyes bore a new intensity. Somewhere along the line, they'd become a darker green than before. She almost smiled in spiteful satisfaction.

"You think I haven't thought this through? Have you considered why we have to burn those granaries? It's not an option, Amy. It's the only solution. It's the only way through this."

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because the bandits can wait forever, but we can't. Come spring, the peasants have to go out into the fields to plant a new crop, whether we've killed the bandits or not. If the bandits are still alive then, they'll hit us while our defenses are down, and we'll all die. Time isn't on our side. So we have to change the equation. We have to make them attack. Odds are this is the only village that hasn't paid its tribute, because we took a risk and played for time. When the bandits' granaries burn, they'll have to attack here, or they won't have enough food to survive the winter. Then we'll kill them all and end this." His words had wisdom in them, and she hated him for it.

"As for the horses," he went on, "I don't mean to kill them. Just scare 'em a little, make 'em unusable to the bandits."

"And if some of them die?"

"That's too bad. It happens. They're just horses."

"Just weapons, huh?"

"If you say so."

"Ha! A real good guy wouldn't be so sanguine about it."

"Amy…" his growl was a warning, but Amy was too drunk on her own anger to appreciate his.

"You're just a faker," she said. "You want to be the good guy so badly you think you really are the good guy, whether it's true or not."

"Amy!" he said. The word was a solid red line.

"I bet the real reason you want to fight now is so you can get all the credit. Sensei's sick now, but he'll get better. And if the bandits stay away, you won't get the glory of killing them."

"Glory? You think I want…" he couldn't even finish the word.

"It wouldn't be a good story otherwise, would it?" she sneered.

"That's it. Sword. Now!"

He walked away from her, trembling with fury, and only now did Amy understand her mistake. He'd given her patience, and she'd abused that patience to breaking. It occurred to Amy that she had never seen Sonic well and truly angry. She'd pushed him there. She'd gone way too far, and now she would pay for it.

Sonic whirled on her. She felt a sudden chill as fear kicked in. His anger burned like a forge; she could feel the heat from several paces away. His eyes had lost all traces of green and were black from iris to pupil. "Sword!" he repeated. His voice was like a slap to the face. Amy hurriedly drew it, not daring to disobey.

"One point. No edges. Go."

It was a duel. He'd defined the parameters and begun before she could respond. Her fear morphed to terror. She knew better than anyone what the gap was between them. They'd never done something so direct; she'd never faced him for real. She felt an intense pressure coming from him. His presence alone caused her to take a step back. She knew it was all mental, knew that he was intimidating her, knew that anxiety would sap her muscles of speed and strength when she needed it.

She also knew that a spring that's compressed to its maximum gives a nasty shock when it breaks free.

There was no escaping it now. She tried to focus and become the weapon again. The tip of her training sword wavered.

How could she focus when she was fighting Sonic? How could she force herself to fight a battle that had only one possible outcome?

Sonic reached to his belt to pull the sheathed weapon from his belt... and froze with a third of the sheath withdrawn. Sonic's other hand grasped his right, and for a moment, the sheath was motionless. Then Sonic pushed the sheath back down into his belt and pried his hand off of it.

"Never mind," he said. His voice cracked around the words. The anger that had been pulsing out from him dissipated like fog. "Forget it."

Amy dropped her training sword. It clattered to the ground. "What was that?" Amy shrieked. Her mind wasn't working; she simply spoke the first thing that came to her. "Were you trying to scare me?"

He chuckled. "Heh. My game's not that deep. You said yourself I'm impulsive."

The words only hammered home the realization of how stupid Amy had been. She'd pushed him to the limits of endurance and beyond, had tried to make him angry, to make him taste a bit of her anger. She'd done it even knowing he was impulsive and rash—it was insanity!

If he hadn't regained control there at the last moment...

"What's the point?" Sonic said, mostly to himself. "I'm stronger than she is, and we both know it. I just wanted her to know that... that what she says... matters... It hits home like a physical blow, sometimes... but if I attacked her, how could I call myself a good guy?"

He shook his head vigorously. The green had returned to his eyes. He seemed to notice her anew. "Amy, be sure you're in place two days from now. We'll need you to backstop us against the bandits. We're counting on you."

She blinked, uncomprehending. "What—oh! You're… you're…" She could find no words to describe him. "After all that, you'd still trust me?"

"Of course! With my life," said Sonic. "I'm kind of stupid that way. Don't let me down!"

He walked away stiffly. He didn't look back to see the effect his statement had on Amy. On a day when she'd sought to destroy him with words of contempt, his words of encouragement were the most damning of all.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Poking the Lion<em>


	13. Poking the Lion

It was a perfect autumn night. It was colder than the night before, but winter's chill hadn't yet taken full effect—plenty warm enough for several animals engaged in heavy aerobic activities. The night was crisp and clean and had an occasional breeze just strong enough to rustle leaves. It was cloudless, with a full moon and bright stars. The light from above was sufficient for them to work with, but wouldn't help the bandits, who were relying on torches. It was as if the heavens themselves were smiling on the mission. The warriors would take every edge they could get.

The guards in the watchtower were facing each other rather than the forest. They traded ribald jokes and told improbable stories to pass the time. Who could blame them? Who could be smart enough to find the bandit hideout, yet dumb enough to attack it?

Even in the best of circumstances, they'd have been hard-pressed to catch a glimpse of the four shadows-within-shadows that stalked the edge of their camp. The snapping and crackling of the torches was louder than the intruders' sounds; the flickering of the torchlight made the shadows move more than the intruders' shadows.

It didn't take them long to get into position.

Tails slung the backpack off of his shoulder and handed coils of rope to both Sonic and Shadow. The hedgehogs tied the ropes around trees that had defied the steepness of the hill. Rouge and Tails each took one of the ropes. Rouge took a few steps to get momentum, then lifted off, cleared the summit of the hill, and gently lit down on the far side, in the shadow of the nearest granary.

To her surprise, Tails touched down next to her. His tails, which had been twirling frantically, spun to a stop as he landed. "That shouldn't work!" Rouge hissed.

Tails grinned. "Eggman used to say that, too."

"Eggman? _The_ Eggman?"

"Later," said Tails. "We have work to do." They pressed up against the wall of the granary. Knuckles had been right, they were completely out of the tower's line of sight, but standing in the open seemed like it was pressing their luck much too sorely. Once more Tails doffed the backpack. As the only member of the party whose weapon was too cumbersome to bring along, he'd been volunteered to be the beast of burden. Inside the backpack were seven torches. Each had been soaked in pitch and was ready to burn. He picked up one of the two small boxes Rouge had contributed. It fit neatly in his palm.

"Are these what I think they are?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Matches. The company had gone broke, its warehouse was in an area that wasn't safe, and I knew no one would be making matches for a long time, so I… contrived for a crate of the good ones to go missing. Got to it the night before the looters did, actually."

"You were being a looter, too," Tails pointed out.

Rouge took this as an affront. "I should think not! I was a thief, not a looter. Looters are unprincipled opportunists. Thieves have standards."

Tails was spared trying to tell the difference by Sonic and Shadow's arrival. He gave them two of the torches and the other box of matches.

"Meet us at the third granary right as the guard changes," Sonic reminded them. "Move."

The granary door swung open with a creak. Tails winced, but there was no helping it. They had to hope no one was close enough to hear it. This mission could still work if they were discovered, but it all depended upon when. Tails had done the math. If they were discovered after burning the first two granaries, but before the third, they'd probably still force the bandits to fight. Any time earlier than that…

Tails' thoughts were short-circuited by the stench of alcohol. He covered his snout in disgust. Where was it coming from? Not nearly enough moonlight was coming in to let him see far. It didn't seem to bother Rouge. She was already moving ahead of him with purpose. It only took Tails a moment to grasp why. As a bat, she was the least dependent of them all upon sight.

Tails could make out that her mouth was open. Tails could hear nothing. He didn't expect to. Bat sonar operated in frequencies well above what he, or any human, could hear.

Only after he saw this, when his eyes had been able to adjust to the absurdly low illumination of the granary, did Tails realize what she was walking towards. Too late—much too late.

"'Oo's there?" gurgled a liquor-laced voice. A bandit sat in the corner, cradling an empty bottle. The grogginess in his eyes quickly gave way to comprehension and alarm. He filled his lungs to scream a warning.

Rouge's kick caught him in the throat.

Tails kept expecting her foot to follow through or recoil back. It stayed put instead. The point of the boot pressed against the bandit's windpipe. Tails didn't understand why, nor why the bandit's eyes filled with surprise, then dulled as life left them. A metallic aroma of blood reached Tails' nose. Only when Rouge withdrew her boot, allowing one final spurt of blood to pulse out from the bandit's neck, did he understand.

"Blades in your boots?" Tails asked.

Rouge nodded. She rolled her heel around in her sole. The blade retracted, leaving no trace that it had been there. Tails appreciated good engineering, and this was. "How many weapons are you carrying, anyway?"

"What a rude question to ask someone in my line of work," she retorted. "You might as well ask a model her weight, or a hooker her age."

"Sorry," said Tails hastily and with sudden nervousness. "It's… really good design work, is all."

"Just kidding," Rouge said, delighting in his discomfort. "It's not rude, exactly. It's just something we'd never ask each other. What reply could you trust?"

"Oh," said Tails, feeling stupid. Brilliant though he was, he'd never learned to think in those terms. He knew of deception, but he wasn't fluent in the language, whereas Rouge was a polyglot.

Instead Tails reached into the backpack and withdrew two long knives. He handed one to Rouge, which she accepted. "Seven," she said.

"Huh?"

"If you count each boot as a separate weapon," she repeated, "I have seven weapons on my person right now."

Tails blinked at her. Her bodysuit was formfitting. That meant all seven weapons were somehow integrated into her boots and gloves. His mind whirred with the possibilities and a newfound respect. Unless, of course, she was lying. It was hard for him to think that way.

"We have work to do," she chided. He yelped and moved deeper into the granary. Together they began to slash open the bales of rice.

The rice was protected from vermin and moisture by sheathes of straw or hide, depending upon local materials. The warriors wanted the fire to consume as much of the rice as possible, so that protection had to go.

They would only be able to open up the outermost bales. The bandits had stored the bales like a staircase. Each layer had one row of bales more than the one above it, and the layers were stacked almost to the ceiling. If the warriors were careful, they'd be able to open up the entire ceiling-layer, as well as the bales that made up each step. If they lost track of their position, they'd box themselves in with loose rice.

Tails had to be very careful when he wielded his knife. As little light as there was outside, there was even less in here. Only a small puddle of moonlight spilled in through the open door. They didn't dare risk lighting a torch yet. It was dark, dusty work, and it quickly became boring. Tails' mind, as ever, was restless—a dangerous combination.

Rouge's boots really were well-made. The blade had popped out even when it looked like she was walking normally. The mechanism must be quite clever. Still, a blade in each boot was only two weapons. Where could the others be?

The air was getting hot. That was a problem. Not only did it make it harder to work and make the mind fuzzier, it meant there was no ventilation up here. No ventilation would retard the spread of the fire. Carbon dioxide would build up right where the flames were licking skyward. They would never reach their full potential like that. There was a solution to this…

"Ow!" he said, even before he realized what had happened. He glanced down. It was almost impossible to see, but he felt a line of pain across his bicep and smelled blood. His own blood, he realized with surprise. His knife had slipped and cut into his arm. How could he have been so stupid?

"Are you okay?" asked Rouge from across the room.

"Fine, fine," he said. He pressed his hand against the wound—and the answer to his dilemma struck him. "Rouge, what's this ceiling made out of? Tiles or thatch?"

She looked up and opened her mouth. Tails thought he heard something, but it was probably just his imagination. "Thatch," she said. "It'll burn like a prairie in drought once the fire hits it."

"Help me make a skylight," Tails said.

"Why?"

"Natural circulation," he answered. "C'mon! Grab that rafter!"

The two warriors flew up to the rafter. Tails was very careful now, and favored his right arm. He didn't think Rouge noticed. Together they kicked and tore and slashed with their knives until they could see stars on the other side.

"There's not much time left," Rouge said. "Let's get back to ground level and light the torches."

The torches had been prepared well. When Rouge's match touched the first one it burst into merry flame. She used it to light a second torch, left both with Tails, and crept around the edge of the door. Her time-sense was good—a new set of guards had joined the first. As she watched, the first two began to head down the ladders towards the barracks. Dawn would be coming before long.

She scampered back into the granary. "Now," she said. They set their torches into piles of rice at opposite ends of the granary. The fire started to spread even as they watched.

"That's quick," said Tails. "We've got to move!"

The third granary's door was already open. When Tails and Rouge got there, Sonic and Shadow were already busily slashing open the bales. Both were moving far quicker than either Tails or Rouge could hope to. "Let's give this one a skylight, too," said Tails, his mind dwelling on his wounded arm. "We'd only get in the way if we tried to help."

They repeated what they'd done to their granary and returned to the ground. They were lighting the remaining torches just as Sonic and Shadow finished opening the bales. The hedgehogs returned to the door nearly simultaneously.

"Heh… another tie," said Sonic.

"It wasn't a race," said Shadow with audible annoyance.

"It was totally a race," Sonic shot back.

"We're short on time," Shadow reminded him.

They dropped two of the three torches in the rice and retreated. Tails had to shake his head. The granaries were beginning to look like giant incense burners, and the guards in the watchtower still hadn't noticed. Contempt welled up within him. "What's the point of having such a wonderful fortress if you don't bother defending it?" he said aloud. "Such a waste! They don't deserve a place like this."

"That's why they don't get to keep it," Sonic said. He took the last torch. "You guys book it. I'll catch you in a moment."

"Don't have to tell me twice," said Rouge.

Tails and Rouge cleared the exit with flight; Shadow followed them moments later, scaling the wall and running with the help of the ropes.

All thoughts of stealth were forgotten. They set off at as high a pace as they dared in the poor light. Rouge went first to break the trail, and the other two followed close behind. When they hit the path that led to the main road, they followed it. Shadow accelerated and took the lead. Rouge and Tails followed in his jet stream.

They settled in to a cross-country pace. They had a lot of distance to cover, and they'd have to be running for most of it; they needed to save themselves as much as possible.

A hunting horn sounded behind them. Moments later, Sonic caught them easily.

"Well, they're awake," said Sonic with a grin. "I kinda buzzed the tower on my way out."

The hunting horn called again—then cut out abruptly.

"Aaaaand they noticed the fire," he added. "I'll take point from here. Shadow, make sure we stay in line. Rouge, speak up early if we need to change our pace."

"Understood," she said in clipped tones—the situation was too serious for self-serving indignation.

The chase was on.

* * *

><p>Behind them, the granaries burned so brightly that the pre-dawn morning was like noon.<p>

The fires spread quickly. Because the rice was loose, it had maximum surface area. It was kept moisture-free to prevent spoiling, so it burned readily. There was ample air for it, thanks to the skylights Tails and Rouge had produced. The hot, smoky, carbon-dioxide-rich air was able to escape out the skylights, while fresh, cool, oxygen-rich air rushed in through the wide-open granary doors. It was like a natural bellows, and it made the flames roar ever higher.

The bandits put out the fire at the stables with ease, no thanks to the horses themselves, which were mad with terror. Doing so delayed when they could get to the granaries, exactly as Sonic had planned. Before the bandits could even begin to fight the granary fires, they had grown beyond controllability. Like floodwaters, once fire reaches a certain point, there is no stopping it.

Soon, the bandit leaders pulled their men back. The best they could hope for was to limit the damage, which meant containing the fires to that side of the creek. They destroyed the bridges and removed any connections between the two sides of their hideout. All of them simmered with anger.

They knew, as the saying went, that this meant war.

* * *

><p>Horses can run quite fast over short to medium distances. To travel long distances, however, they must move at a trot. This is a lower speed, ultimately, than an in-shape human or humanoid can run. Given enough time and an accurate trail, a reasonably fast human will run down a horse.<p>

Even Rouge was as fast as a "reasonably fast" human.

The circumstances were less than ideal. They'd been up all night with little to eat besides a snack they'd polished off before going into the hideout. Rouge's attire was not the best for running. They had a long, long way to go.

None of those things is what stopped them.

As Rouge had described, the road twisted and turned this way and that. They never put more than three-quarters of their speed directly back to the village. Their only comfort was that the bandits would have to follow the same winding road and suffer beneath the same limitations.

They had no water to spare. The cool morning air did wonders to help keep them from overheating as the distance ticked by. It was, if nothing else, a pretty run. They saw mist-capped hills rolling by endlessly. They saw trees older than anyone they'd ever met, with leaves a dozen different colors. They saw villages- just like the one they were headed to, perhaps- sleeping peacefully in the early morning light. They saw an owl and a hawk regarding each other from trees on opposite ends of a clearing, as if changing the guard.

They would have appreciated these things more if their cause had not been so urgent. Continuing to run demanded nearly all of their focus.

With reluctance the landscape crawled by, taking them ever closer to home. Rouge was in excellent physical condition, but that didn't mean she was used to running like this, and as the sun rose and climbed into the sky, it exacted a fierce toll on her.

Which was why she was surprised when Tails began to stumble.

"Stop," said Shadow.

Sonic turned. His face was serene. This was a good place for him; running always felt so good, and even though he had to stop, everything was going according to plan, so he had no worries.

His expression shattered when Tails came into view. "Tails, what happened?" he shouted.

Blood had soaked Tails' shirtsleeve from his bicep to his elbow.

"Don't worry about it," Tails said. "It'll be okay. I'll run it off."

"This isn't a cramp, you nitwit," said Rouge. "Look how much blood you've lost! If you push yourself, it'll only get worse."

Sonic looked at Tails. He saw his friend's panting, saw how the small areas of visible skin had paled terribly, and saw some blood drip down from Tails' elbow. How much had he lost along the way?

Sonic shook his head. "We're not going any further 'till we get you fixed up," he said.

"But Sonic..." Tails protested, in a manner he'd been doing for a decade and a half.

"No!" said Sonic. His voice was unexpectedly forceful. It was tinged with genuine fear. First things first- he could almost hear Rouge's muscles cramping up. "Shadow," he said, "take Rouge and keep going. Give it a real gentle pace. It's just to keep her moving."

They understood immediately. When a body has been running for a long time, what it wants to do more than anything is to keep running. If she stopped, she'd ruin herself. Once more, Rouge restrained her arrogance in the name of reality. "Of course. We'll keep it slow."

"Catch up with us as soon as you can," said Shadow. He moved away at a leisurely pace. Rouge followed gingerly in his wake.

"What were you thinking?" hissed Sonic. "Get that backpack off. I've got it."

"We were in such a hurry when it happened that there wasn't time. I didn't want to slow you down," said Tails abashedly.

"This'll slow us down more than anything! Not smart, Tails. Not smart at all." Sonic took one of the knives from Tails' pack. He cut the sleeves off of Tails' shirt. The right was no good to anyone, now. The left he began cutting into strips. He was well-practiced at making field bandages after so many campaigns.

Tails reached to try and help him. Sonic slapped his hand away. "Nuh-uh," he said. "You just hold still."

"It's not a big wound," Tails said. "Just a bit of a slash, barely even penetrated the fatty layer. There's nothing arterial about it. I'm shocked it bled so much."

"That's because you ran," Sonic pointed out. "You kept your blood pumping really fast, so it couldn't ever clot. It may not be bleeding very quick, but it never stopped, and it's been hours now."

"How embarrassing," Tails said. "I've never slowed you down before like this."

"Tails, I've _always_ slowed down for you," Sonic said.

"You have?" said Tails with surprise.

"Of course I have! I've always made sure not to go full-out if it meant leaving you behind. Having you close and safe is always more important than going full speed."

Tails closed his eyes and chuckled. "I don't know whether to feel good about your affection... or patronized."

Sonic started wrapping cloth around Tails' arm. "What do you mean?"

"I knew you were faster. Of course you were! I always thought... I thought I could hold my own, at least. That I was in your league. You let me think that, didn't you? You wanted me to believe I was stronger than I was."

"Because you _were_ way stronger than you _thought_," said Sonic. "Now hold still." He cinched the bandage down. Tails winced but said nothing. "There's not a whole lot we can do at this point. There's no getting back what you've already lost. We're gonna have to take it slow, 'cause that's all you can do now."

"Sorry," said Tails.

"This would be a really stupid place to die," Sonic said as he helped Tails to a standing position.

"I won't die here," said Tails. "Not when I'm following you."

"Don't just say it, make it happen!" Sonic began to run at a speed he found painfully slow. Tails was able to keep up. For now, at least.

"I can't protect you from everything," Sonic said over his shoulder. "Especially not if you do something boneheaded like run with an open wound."

"Sorry for slowing you down," Tails said.

"Damn it, lil' bro, stop focusing on the wrong thing," said Sonic. "This isn't about going fast or slow. It's about you not bleeding to death for no good reason!"

That gave Tails a moment's pause. "Lil' bro," he said in a voice misty with remembrance. "You haven't called me that since..."

"A while, yeah," said Sonic. "It's been a while since you scared the daylights outta me like this."

Tails bowed his head- for a moment; it's a bad posture for running. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"NOW we're talking!" Sonic grinned. Most of the good humor had returned to his voice. Most.

* * *

><p>Tails' and Rouge's limitations slowed the group down. As the sun continued its relentless climb, their speed dropped to well below that of a horse at the trot. If the bandits made a real effort to catch them, it might still be possible. Sonic kept a close eye on the landmarks that showed how far away they were from the village. They'd covered about two-thirds of the distance at their higher speed, but the last third would take almost as long.<p>

Ever so slowly, step by step, they ate up the distance. They ran on, on, ever on. It was farther than Rouge had ever run before by at least double. Tails was clearly weakening. Even Sonic and Shadow were beginning to show signs of wear. The terrain had been interesting and beautiful before. Now it acquired a horrid sameness- none of it was the village they so desperately wanted to be in by now.

From time to time Sonic had Shadow run back a short bit to check on their pursuit. The first two times Shadow had nothing to report.

The third time he said, "I saw horses at the edge of sight. They're closing."

"I can run faster," Tails said.

Sonic glanced back at him. The bandage, tight as he'd made it, was staining red. "No," he said. "There are other ways." He let them run for a bit more. His eyes were on the edge of the road.

"Tails, Rouge, keep running," he said. He came to a halt before a large tree that overhung the road. Shadow padded up alongside him. "I'll take the right if you take the left," he said.

Shadow brought his sheath out from his belt and held it behind him in his left hand. His right hand waited, poised over the hilt of his sword. Sonic's posture was identical.

"Now!"

The two hedgehogs made two blurs- one blue, one black- past the tree's trunk. The tree teetered for several seconds before cracking noises came from what remained of its trunk. It crashed down across the road.

Katanas slid back into sheaths. "That won't delay them long," said Shadow. "And I won't risk more damage to my sword."

"It'll be enough," said Sonic. "We're almost where we need to be. C'mon!"

They sprinted forward to catch up with Tails and Rouge. They needn't have bothered. Rouge was jogging listlessly in place. Tails was on his knees with his tongue lolling out.

"And you said you could go faster!" said Sonic. "C'mon, up and at 'em. Just a little further."

"I feel dizzy," said Tails.

"I'll help you." Sonic slid Tails' good arm across Sonic's shoulders- a tricky feat considering the quills, but doable. "We're almost there. Hang in just a bit more. Shadow, take point."

The midmorning sun was no longer a friendly source of warmth but the origin of torturous heat that added to their misery. Tails' strength had abandoned him. He leaned heavily on Sonic. It limited their speed to a brisk walk. Rouge was secretly glad for this. Her leg muscles were like a single bowstring bound tightly to the bone. Every stride caused her pain in three different places.

"They're going to catch us," said Shadow.

"Not in time," said Sonic. "Look!"

They were coming around yet another bend in the road. Ahead of them, three figures were visible- one green, one pink, one red.

Red and gold.

"Almost there, Tails," said Sonic encouragingly. "A little more."

"Right," said Tails vacantly. His breathing was as hard as Sonic had ever heard it.

"Don't quit on me now," Sonic chided gently. "Just a little further."

"Easy." Tails' eyes fluttered, but he kept his feet moving.

They could faintly hear angry shouting behind them as the bandits tried to maneuver over or around the fallen tree. It meant the delaying tactic had worked, but it also meant the bandits were far too close for comfort.

Ahead of them, the other warriors became bigger and bigger in their sight.

"We just have to get to Knuckles and the others, okay, Tails? Just that far, then we can stop."

"No... problem..."

Sonic's heart trembled in his chest, and it had nothing to do with his exertions. Tails was losing consciousness, but he doggedly kept putting one foot in front of the other. So long as Sonic told him to move, he would move, whatever it cost him.

He would follow Sonic to his own grave.

The decision was easy to make. Sonic made it, per his usual methods, instantly. Pushing Tails to run more would let them reach their friends, but it might kill him. Stopping meant fighting the bandits. Sonic would chance the bandits every time.

He eased Tails to a halt. "That's enough," he said.

"Is it?" said Tails. He shivered despite the growing heat.

Sonic carefully let Tails down towards the ground. He brought him down to his knees, then tenderly laid him on his back. "You did great, lil' bro. You relax now. I'll take it from here."

"Perfect," murmured Tails. "I knew... I could count on you... Sonic..."

"Always, Tails. Always."

Sonic waited until Tails had lapsed into unconsciousness. Then he stepped over his friend and drew his sword. He held it high for maximum visibility. He let it rest sideways across both his hands. The sun reflected off of it right into Vector's eyes.

Sonic heard a distant yowl. He grinned. Message received. He tossed Tails' backpack to the ground. The encumbrance was unneeded. He settled into a fighting stance, glaring at the bandits with terrifying intensity.

The bandits were past the tree now and regaining their organization. They were as far away as Sonic's reinforcements, and would get to Sonic first if they made a serious attempt of it. There were ten of them- enough to outnumber the warriors, but were there enough to outfight them? Sonic knew full well that the bandits were as tired and hungry as he was. If only they could be persuaded it wasn't worth it...

Sonic's eyesight was keen, as was his insight. He could see the lather along the horses' sides and the froth at their mouths from exhaustion. He noticed the uncomfortable way many of the bandits sat after their long and hard rides. He picked out missed straps and skipped buttons and other details that showed how hastily the bandits had dressed out and left their camp.

He could also see their expressions, and how much hate and contempt they wore. Bad enough to burn the bandits' home in the middle of the night- this chase added insult to the injury.

Which would win? Fatigue or anger?

Three of the bandits shouldered bows and trotted into range. Sonic indulged in a smile. This he could deal with.

Three arrows whistled their way towards the hedgehog. Snap! Thunk! Snap! Sonic sliced two of the arrows in half and caught the other with the hilt of his katana. He made a quick chopping motion with his hand to break off the arrow shaft- the arrowhead would have to stay for now- and returned to his stance. "Is that all ya got?" he called to them.

The archers shared nervous glances. That hadn't gone according to plan. Two more bandits joined them with bows of their own, while a trio armed with swords began their approach.

Sonic watched carefully as the bandits prepared another volley of arrows. He could see in his mind that this could be done, if with difficulty. The bandits let fly, Sonic began his swing- and cut it short just as quickly.

Knuckles barreled past him, twirling the claymore the way a lesser fighter might twirl a baton. A katana slips through the air as if dividing it into breezes. When Knuckles swung his claymore, he forced the air out of the way. He was the eye in a storm of his own making. The arrows never had a chance. Pieces of them plinked harmlessly against Knuckles' armor. It was the gold mosaic-mail he had brought from Akemo. It fit him like your skin fits your hand.

The bandits that had been approaching reined in their mounts.

"I am Knuckles," Knuckles bellowed, "Captain of the Guard of the Island of Angels, last of the echidnas, and none of you have the stones to face me and live!"

He swung his claymore horizontally as a sort of exclamation point. Dust billowed up from the ground to fill the vacuum the sword left. It obscured Knuckles slightly, like an aura or halo.

Sonic glanced back. Amy and Vector were trotting up. Shadow and Rouge were right behind them. "Is he alright?" hollered Vector.

"He will be," said Sonic. It took a real effort to keep the relief out of his voice. "Vector, I need you to carry him. Careful, now, he's really weak."

Vector slung Tails over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes- he was strong enough that he didn't need to do a fireman's carry. Sonic looked towards the bandits. They were visibly hesitating. He could feel their uncertainty. Knuckles' charge had done its job. The bandits were on the point of deciding this wasn't worth it.

"Okay, back off," Sonic said. "Nice and easy. Stay facing the bad guys, don't let 'em change their minds."

They began to shuffle backwards. They made sure their weapons were as visible as possible. A slow, casual retreat would be enough, here, with the village just two bends away.

Rouge frowned. Something was wrong. Some of the bandits were gesturing. Others were beginning to creep forward.

_Knuckles wasn't retreating._ He even took a step forward, so as better to ready the claymore behind him.

"C'mon, Knuckles," whispered Sonic. "We'll get 'em another time."

The distance began to open between Knuckles and his fellows. Rouge could see the bandits pointing this out to each other.

"Knuckles, it's no good fighting here," he said again. "Come on back with us."

No response. The three bandits with swords were nodding to each other in agreement.

"Knuckles!"

"He's not listening!" Amy said.

That wasn't it. Rouge knew that wasn't it. Knuckles wasn't ignoring them. He couldn't hear them.

She saw what had happened. Knuckles was in another place, another time, far away and long ago. Anything that was said here and now couldn't reach him. He was standing close by, but he might as well have been on another planet.

"Leave him," said Shadow coldly. "There's nothing we can do."

Rouge's temper flared like a nova. "Like hell! No one ignores me!" She ran forward, remaining perfectly in Knuckles' blind spot.

For a moment, she felt a tickle of amusement. She'd used a certain move on many occasions to take lives. Now she would use it to save one.

Knuckles didn't respond to her approach. The first warning he had that she was there came when she kicked out his knee. She was not done, for Rouge was nothing if not thorough. As he began to fall, she reached around and snagged his neck. She caught a glimpse of Knuckles' eyes, wide with surprise, before she slammed his skull into the ground. Even with his remarkable constitution, it was too much. He was out cold.

"Vector, you'll have to carry him, too," said Rouge. She stood back up, began to double over as her legs screamed at her, caught herself, regained her dignity. She looked to the bandits. Two of them seemed to want no part in the fight, but the three swordsmen were riding up now, fast as their worn-out horses could carry them. The archers fired another volley.

Sonic and Shadow darted in front of Rouge, their swords meeting and matching the arrows shot for shot. The horsemen were another story. Sonic dashed left while Shadow dashed right. Rouge braced herself to take the final one. As she stepped forward her leg buckled. She gasped in pain and surprise as she dropped to her knees. She gritted her teeth. She could survive this, but it would be tricky...

Amy sailed over her.

It was a magnificent leap. It had enough speed and lift that when Amy began to swing her training sword she was at the same height as her horseman target. There was a loud crack as her blow connected- the swordsman had been preparing to cut down Rouge, and his sword was out of position. He tumbled to the ground.

(Elsewhere, there was the clanging of steel on steel, two shouts of pain and surprise and death, two bandits limply lying against their horses. But late, too late to affect Amy's battle...)

The bandit gathered himself quickly, before Amy could follow up properly. She swung for him again. The bandit swung in return- not to parry, but to attack her sword. It worked. Wood met metal. Metal won. The bandit counter-attacked in earnest. Amy tried to block, but metal defeated her again. Her block slowed the bandit's strike enough that it didn't connect. It wouldn't happen again. There was nothing left of her training sword past the hilt.

Amy backpedaled as fear overtook her. The bandit pressed in, a bestial snarl on his lips. His expression seemed to mock her. He had killed; he was a warrior; Amy had just been playing at one. He raised his sword. She flung the hilt of her training sword at his face to buy time. He ducked away from it, losing sight of her.

"Amy!" called Rouge. Amy looked over to her. A kunai dagger was already on its way to her. Amy snatched it out of the air, turned back to the bandit.

His swing was hasty and half-blind. He'd rushed to attack the opening Amy had given him. His lunge was a bit too far out, his balance unsteady. Amy danced backwards just beyond the arc. She planted her back foot so hard it dug into the packed-down dirt of the road. Now it was the bandit's turn to feel fear.

Very briefly.

Amy had never used a kunai before, with its ring below the handgrip and four-faced point, but she could tell where the point was and understood where it should go. She jabbed forward with it, aiming for the bandit's neck. She connected. It almost slid out of her hand as it drove into his flesh and stopped suddenly upon hitting his spine. Blood sprayed from severed arteries, splashing onto Amy's face and coating her hand. When the bandit fell, she lost her grip altogether. She left the kunai in the bandit's corpse because she hadn't the wit to get it back.

Her world was red, so very red...

"Amy!" barked Rouge. "Get the dagger back! And snag his sword while you're at it!"

How Amy complied was a mystery, because her eyes were out of focus. She seemed to be in a trance.

"Had enough?" Sonic shouted to the remaining seven bandits. "Or do the rest of you want some?"

"We can press our advantage," Shadow whispered.

"What, now? With two unconscious, one burdened, one injured, and one dazed? It'd just be you and me."

"We'd win."

"Maybe. Not a chance I'm eager to take right now, I'll admit. Don't tell the bad guys, though."

"But we'd win," Shadow insisted.

"Yeah? And how many of their friends are coming, that just need a little time to catch up with us?"

Shadow had no response to that.

"I don't know, and neither do you, and that's why we're not gonna take the chance. Even if it is just them, it's still risky. If any of those bandits gets away from us when we go in, they'll be able to kill some of our friends. That'd be bad for the village, really bad. I need every one of us I can get. And if we lose, the bandits kill all of us, and the village is done for."

Shadow relented. "I'm not used to thinking like part of a group."

"It takes lots of practice. Right now, what we need is for the bandits to back off and let us get home." Sonic twirled his sword in showy fashion. The bandits seemed to get the message. They'd had enough. They turned their horses and rode- slowly- in the opposite direction.

Sonic looked back at his charges. It was a motley collection. They were in no condition to fight, but they were all alive. The mission was a complete success. He couldn't have asked for more.

His eyes touched on each of them. Even now, responsibility dictated his actions. What a pain, he thought. "Vector, take Knuckles and Tails back to the village. Shadow, help Rouge. I'll get Amy."

"Sure thing!" hollered Vector. Shadow helped Rouge to her feet. Sonic walked quietly over to Amy.

"Amy," he said evenly. She jumped. Her breathing was shallow. Her heart was beating so hard Sonic could almost see her pulse in her neck. "Relax, Amy," he said. "It's over. Let it go."

Amy let the weapons slide from her hands. She stumbled backwards a step.

"It's okay," Sonic said. "I'm here. Okay? I'm here."

"I... I killed him, didn't I?"

"Yes," said Sonic. "You did a good job of it, too."

"But killing's not good. Right?" Her voice was that of someone tossed by the sea, searching frantically for something to hold on to.

"Right. It's not. But you did it well. If you have to do a bad thing, might as well do it right, huh?"

It was too complex a thought for Amy in her current state. She blinked dully at Sonic and his words went away. "I thought it would be hard," she said.

Sonic waited. He knew what was coming at this point.

"It wasn't. It was easy. Easy as... as jumping, or writing. You learn how and... and you don't really think about it, you just..."

Sonic took small steps towards her. He'd seen this before. "Shell shock", they called it- an anachronistic term when Sonic first heard it, even more so now. Out of time or not, it was apt, so it stuck. The difference was that on those other occasions Sonic had seen it, he could always say it was someone else's problem. He'd never had to face it himself. This time, though, it was indisputably his responsibility.

"It's not supposed to be easy!" said Amy with growing franticness. "If it's this easy what stops people from- what keeps me from- how can this world even, even..."

Sonic extended his arms towards her. She shied away like his touch was poison. "Don't!" she said. "Tell me! Tell me why it's easy!"

The edge of Sonic's mouth curled up, but if it was a smile, it was a sad, ironic smile. "But it's not easy," he said. "If it was easy, you wouldn't feel like you do now."

Amy's eyes couldn't have gotten wider without popping from her skull. "I... I didn't really mean to," she said. "That's... why I brought the training sword, not the mallet... but... that was stupid of me, wasn't it? He was going to kill me... that's what war is, isn't it? Killing? So I... had to be ready... If I hadn't, he would've..."

She had asked the question, but Sonic could give no answer. He'd wrestled with these questions for decades. His answers were still unsettled, and Amy was in no condition to grapple with them now. She needed comfort and reassurance, not more problems. So Sonic said nothing. He stepped closer, maintaining eye contact.

He extended a hand out. Amy's eyes darted to it, then back to his eyes. She shook like a leaf in the wind. He brought his hand to her cheek. He supported her chin with his fingers; with his thumb, he wiped the bandit's blood from her face. It was an incomplete gesture. The material in his gloves didn't absorb blood. It spread the blood thinner and wiped some of it away, but the rest would not be cleaned.

"It's okay," Sonic said in a soft voice. "No one can hurt you now. You're safe."

Amy hadn't even known she was scared until he said those words. When he did, it was as if floodgates had opened. She let out a loud wail and embraced Sonic. She pressed her face against his chest. He returned her embrace- gently, tenderly, not as a lover or friend, but more like a parent.

There would be time, later, to recollect her composure, to clean themselves up, and to return to the village. For now, Amy needed a good cry.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Confusion<em>


	14. Confusion

Vector unloaded Tails and Knuckles onto mats in the warriors' building. "Better go get water," he said to himself. "They'll need plenty!"

He tromped out. Rouge slipped in behind him. Shadow saw her in, then left again for his own inscrutable reasons.

Rouge could barely stand. She staggered over to her place, near Knuckles, and eased herself into a sitting position. Her leg muscles were solid and unmoving as rocks. They throbbed with pain as if to tell her "never do that again!"

So she was nearby when Knuckles came to.

It was slow at first. His eyes fluttered, and he moaned in pain. Rouge snorted. "About time," she said. "I thought you were tougher than that."

His eyes flew open. "Why you- you ambushed me!" He sprang to his feet, then staggered, pressing a hand to his head.

"You stupid ingrate," she said with a voice cool as granite. "I saved your life."

"Shows what you know," he said. He was blinking heavily. "You didn't save my life."

Contempt was open in her expression. "You were totally outnumbered, and you didn't retreat when we did. You were going to try and fight them all. You're not that good."

"I didn't want or need your help," he said. He was beginning to straighten up as his senses cleared.

She sneered at him. "You were going to die. Shadow had already told us to leave you to your fate. I acted to save your life- at great personal risk, I should add- and this is the thanks I get? You really are a buffoon!"

"So what? Don't blame me because you risked your life. Keep it for all I care."

"I think I will, then. You could learn a lesson from that."

"It was my choice to draw the line there. It wasn't your place to step in," he told her.

"Not my place? It's not your place to throw away your life! You have a responsibility to the group and the village. We can't afford for our limited number of warriors to make pointless, idiotic stands."

His eyes narrowed. "Responsibility? I have carried more responsibility than you can possibly imagine."

She waved her hand dismissively. "That's no excuse to be irresponsible now. Don't try to impress me with your credentials. Sounds like you need a new set."

A growl rose deep in his throat. "I won't let you lecture me, of all people, about responsibility."

"Is the word a sore spot?" she said unkindly. "Obligation, then. You signed on to protect the village. I made sure you're alive to do so. I acted in all our interests, including yours."

"Your arrogance is really something," Knuckles shot back. "You think you know what's in my interests. You don't know anything about me."

"You don't, either! You were someone else out there. It's as if you thought you really were Captain of the Guard or whatever it was."

Knuckles' eyes betrayed the surge of panic that coursed through him. "I... said that?"

"Listen to yourself! You don't even know what you were doing, do you? Yes, you said that. Here's a hint: no one cares! I don't give a rat's ass if you were high mugwump of the holy handbasket, _I_ need you alive because I need you on the ramparts next to me when the bandits attack us next!"

He staggered again, and it had nothing to do with his head injury. "You... need?"

Some color appeared in her cheeks despite her best efforts. "Don't get any funny ideas," she said, "I was speaking generally. This village needs every warrior it can get. Your life isn't yours to throw away."

The moment passed. Knuckles hung his head. He gave a toneless, lifeless laugh. "You got that right, at least," he said. "My life isn't mine to throw away, because I'm already dead. I just haven't stopped breathing yet."

Rouge rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself, you melodramatic moron. If you're breathing, you're alive. If you're alive, then what else do you need?"

"I'm gonna choose to laugh at that," said Knuckles. "If I did take you seriously, I'd have to maul you."

"I'm shaking in my boots," said Rouge mockingly. "Give me a break. The past is the past. It's dead. You're alive. Get a grip."

Knuckles took a step forward and brandished a fist. Fury was etched across his face. "Are you trying to piss me off? Or does it just come naturally?"

She gave a triumphant cry. "Feels good, doesn't it? Don't you feel alive? This is living! Don't waste your passion on the past. The present is so much more interesting."

That cut Knuckles short. His face looked like he'd just bitten into something foul. He didn't want to be doing what she wanted him to do. "You just love to twist things around, don't you?"

She lounged backwards and fanned herself like an aristocrat. "Of course, silly. It's what I do. And you know what? It worked. You're alive, and firmly planted in the present. And if you start to slip away again, you'll think of me, and you'll stop. You can thank me any time." She extended a hand towards him, palm-down. "You may kiss my hand, if you feel worthy."

There was no way for Knuckles to respond without seeming like a petulant child. "I thought you didn't care," he said in grouchy tones.

Rouge paused a moment to carefully pick her words, though Knuckles missed this. "I don't care per se," she said. "It's just that my world is more interesting with you in it."

He shook his head. "You really are a selfish bitch, did you know that?"

"Ooh, that was nice. Say it again," she cooed.

Vector pushed his way into the room. He was carrying a large basin of water. "You two again?" he said in a voice fit to wake the dead.

"Nothing happened," Knuckles said hastily. More than his fur was red.

Rouge betrayed no shame when she said, "Aw, isn't da widdle boy cute when he's embawwassed?"

"I don't have to prove myself to you," Knuckles shot back. "And that goes double for you," he said to Vector.

"Whatever, I can add one plus one," said Vector. He hauled the basin over next to Tails and plopped it down.

"We'll have to make sure he drinks as much as he can," Rouge said. Her voice had lost all traces of levity in an instant. "He's in no danger from the blood loss itself, now, but he's running low on fluids of all sorts. Dehydration is the next danger. A shame we have no way to hook up an I-V."

Vector gave her a suspicious look. "You know a thing or two, do you?"

Her face darkened for the span of a blink. "A thing or two," she said evenly. "So let's use that knowledge to save Tails."

Knuckles was watching her. She knew it, and resolutely ignored him.

Or, to be more accurate, she didn't look back at him. She couldn't simply ignore him- nor, she discovered to her surprise, did she want to. Her life really was more interesting when he was in it. It was an intriguing sensation for her, and novel.

She wanted more of it.

* * *

><p>By the time Amy got back to the village, she no longer needed Sonic's support, and she no longer looked like she'd been crying.<p>

As they reentered, Sonic noticed how the lookouts spotted them. They were keeping alert even in Sonic's absence. It was gratifying.

They cleared the bottom end of the Alley. Amy immediately split off from Sonic. She made a beeline back for the warrior's building.

"Amy," Sonic called after her.

She stopped, but didn't turn back to him. "Yes?"

"I... is there anything else you need?"

"Not from you," she said.

He exhaled. It could have been a sigh, except that it lasted for several seconds. "Okay," he said. "Stay cool, then. If you do, you know, need my help, I'll be up for a bit still."

"I understand," she said. No gratitude. Just comprehension. She walked away from him.

Sonic shook his head. She did need his help, or someone's help, more than she knew. Her attitude made clear she would not accept help from him. He wondered how that had happened. Technically, he was still her master, and she his student. Nothing they'd said had changed that relationship. Yet he knew that if he tried to exercise that authority, it would collapse like breaking glass.

He hoped she found help from somebody.

Fatigue set in upon him. He'd exerted himself, arguably, more than any of them. He had the most right to sleep, or at least rest. There was still one more task for him before he rested, something only he could do.

He dropped briefly by the warrior's house to get some materials, but he didn't stay long. He couldn't, not in the presence of the convalescing Tails and the ongoing Knuckles-Rouge sniping. He took the materials to the main hall, where he settled into a corner far from sensei and the other injured peasant.

He had selected the best of the swords they'd taken from the fallen bandits. It was the one that had belonged, oddly enough, to the bandit Amy had killed that morning. Sonic had no desire to swap out his sword. To him, one was as good as the next. Amy, on the other hand, would need every advantage.

He set the sword on the ground. Even with heavy-lidded eyes he could see the screws that connected the hilt to the tang. He removed them. The tang, the metal part of the sword, came free. He doused it with water to remove the dirt and grime. He wiped it down thoroughly. Even a trace of water in an inopportune spot could ruin a blade. He wiped it again, and again, until it was as dry as desert sand.

With a set of graduated stones, he began to sharpen the blade.

He remembered how Tails had said he hadn't really changed. It just showed that Tails didn't know everything. Sonic knew beyond a doubt that if he'd sat down like this fifteen years ago, perhaps even ten years ago, he'd never have been able to see it through.

The stones ground, ground, ground against the blade.

When had it happened? Young Sonic had been impetuous, energetic, vivacious- words Sonic didn't know by name but knew perfectly by feel. Young Sonic had lived for a life of thrills and high adventure.

Young Sonic, he reflected, hadn't known how to play defense. A battle like this would have been beyond him.

The blade gleamed, but Sonic continued on.

Had Young Sonic ever had to play defense? Sonic couldn't remember an occasion when he had. He was always on the search for wrongs to right. He was always moving, always attacking the evil he found.

The world had changed. He no longer had to seek out evil because evil didn't bother to hide. It was everywhere, and it was aggressive. It was on the attack in all sectors. There wasn't enough good left in the world to hold it back. It was all Sonic could do to protect a tiny, insignificant village like this.

How far he'd fallen- he, who had once declared that he'd take on Eggman by himself!

He really was limited. He couldn't even protect one girl from her own feelings.

Part of him wanted to throw up his hands and forget about it. She'd signed up to be a warrior, after all. If she couldn't handle the consequences, oh well. Better to find that out now than later.

There was no will behind that sentiment. Stronger than that was the sense that he had failed her. She was his student. That made her his responsibility. He was supposed to teach her about these things. If she was in shock, it was because he hadn't taught her properly.

When had he learned responsibility? Young Sonic couldn't even be bothered to put the toilet seat down. Yet here he was, trying in vain to make up for something that was only sort-of his fault.

He hadn't prepared Amy well for battle. Now she'd locked him out, and he couldn't prepare her mind or body. There was only one thing left. If she had to fight again, he'd ensure she had the best weapon available.

He sharpened the katana until it could slice through unsupported silk. After that was a coating of oil. He carefully drained the excess back into its jar for future reuse. He left a thin coating like a sheen or gloss. It was enough to lock out moisture and ensure a smooth draw from the sheath- useful for certain styles.

He reassembled the sword and rose to test it. It seemed to come alive in his hands. The difference between a cared-for sword and a neglected sword was like the difference between a live cat and a stuffed toy.

Something still seemed off. For a moment he wavered, but he decided he had to go to this last extreme. He sat down again and undid the cord bindings that made up the grip. Slowly, painstakingly, he re-wove the grip. When he tied it tight and tried again, it seemed to hold his hand as much as his hand held it. The sword danced at his command.

He stood and took a few practice swings. The sword sang through the air. The small amount of free oil slid off. The rest was tightly bound to the metal of the blade.

It was perfect.

Sonic sheathed the sword and walked outside. It had taken longer than he'd planned. There wasn't enough time to rest now, not with the bandits coming in their full fury tomorrow. He needed to check the defenses again, give Ichiro instructions on keeping people rested, do a round of the outposts to keep people's spirits up...

Sleep could wait. Not indefinitely, but it could wait for now.

The only thing that couldn't wait was giving this sword to Amy. Now where had she run off to?

* * *

><p>Amy didn't make it back to the warrior's building.<p>

"Are you hurt?"

Startled, Amy looked to where the voice had come from. "Shadow!" she said.

He'd been leaning against a building. His expression said nothing, but his presence implied he'd been waiting on her. "Are you hurt?" he repeated.

The question was unexpected, so it took her a moment to reply. "N-no, I'm okay," she said. "I wasn't hit."

His eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked you," he said.

She blushed and turned away. "It's just... I've never killed anyone before," she said. "It didn't feel good. It made me feel... dirty. What was I thinking, anyway?"

Shadow answered, "You weren't. You were defending yourself, which is instinct. Everyone's always allowed to defend themselves."

It was so simple when he said it that Amy gave a short laugh. Then again, she thought, maybe I've been over-complicating it. Maybe it _is_ that simple.

"What?" said Shadow, unsettled by her laughter.

"You really think so?" she asked. "You think that it's okay because he would have killed me if I hadn't?"

"Absolutely," Shadow said firmly. "He attacked you. You defended yourself. You had to kill him to do it. End of story."

Amy relaxed. Her memory protested meekly that events hadn't quite worked that way, but her brain overpowered it. "Thank you, Shadow," she said. "I really needed that."

He looked uncomfortable. She could tell he was trying to find the right words. "You're welcome," he said at last.

She laughed, but affectionately this time. She gave him a big smile. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever-so-slightly. By Shadow's standards, it was a face-cracking grin.

In her hour of need, Shadow had helped her. He'd given her a comfort that Sonic hadn't. All Sonic could do was hold her like a child. Shadow was bad at conversation, but he had the words she needed to hear. They'd lifted her out of the well of her despondency. Shadow was there for her when she needed him. Where had Sonic been, anyway, when she was afraid and alone fighting that bandit?

He was so like Sonic in some ways. In others, they were night and day. Shadow responded to her in a way Sonic didn't. Shadow seemed to genuinely like her, even care for her. Certainly more than Sonic ever had...

A wave of affection washed over her- and then a wave of something else. A fierce look formed on Amy's features. Shadow took a half-step backwards. "Amy?" he said uncertainly.

She reached out to him. She was faster than he expected; he wasn't able to escape her grip. "Come with me," she said.

"Why?"

"I want to thank you for all you've done for me," she said. She began walking, pulling him along behind her.

"You already thanked me," he said, the apprehension getting thicker in his voice.

"I want to thank you _properly_," she said.

"There's more?"

Amy indulged in a smile only she knew was there. "For you, there is."

When Sonic had forced her to watch the bandit torture sensei- forced her!, her mind repeated indignantly- she'd decided to make it her business to know about all the village's good hiding places. Most of them weren't intended as hiding places. They were extra storage spaces that happened to be under floorboards. There was one she knew of, in a building that was all storage already. This extra space would be mostly full of containers of this and that, but enough room would remain to move about on all fours. Plenty for what she had in mind.

She led Shadow into the storage building. It took her only moments to find the right panel. She dug her fingers into the crevices and lifted the trapdoor. "Down there," she said.

"What's down there?"

"You'll see."

Haltingly, he went down into the storage space. She followed, and closed the trapdoor above them.

Shadow was well-versed in self-defense. Against this kind of assault, he was helpless. Sonic had told Amy "no" once before. Shadow didn't even know how to say "no"; he'd no experience with the question. Amy did everything she could to make it not a question at all.

Only a few sounds escaped into the storage room above. Soft rustling. An occasional wet smack. After a time, whispered voices:

"Like this?"

"Yesssss..."

A short chirp of pain, a brief silence, and then ragged breathing, for a time that was both long and too short.

A sudden intake of breath.

Silence- silence as deep as the darkness in the crawlspace.

It was horribly uncomfortable down there. The rough cloth of the bags was scratchy and coarse. There was little circulation, so even though it had started out cool from being underground it quickly became stuffy and muggy. The dust was enough to plug a nostril. There were probably, just out of sight, all manner of vermin and arthropods.

For Amy, they might as well have been lying on clouds.

"We should go back," said Shadow, after a couple of dozen years.

"I suppose," Amy said, though without conviction. She could have laid there for another decade or two. "You go first. If anyone asks, just say you went to check up on the sentries."

"Why?"

Amy paused, then chuckled. "Actually, they probably won't ask _you_ anything. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." Shadow raised the trapdoor, but didn't leave through it. "Amy, I... I don't know what this means. I've never... felt... like this before."

"We'll figure it out as we go," she said dreamily. The words came from her subconscious; her conscious mind was on holiday. "We'll trust our instincts and just go for it."

Shadow nodded slowly, as if something had been resolved, although of course nothing had. "See you soon," he said.

Amy waited for a good while. She didn't really feel the need to go anywhere. Life just felt so... good, sometimes. Eventually the discomfort got to her, as did some form of creepy-crawly. She brushed it off, gently, and reemerged back into the storage building. She sorted herself out, brushed herself off, arranged her clothes carefully, and did her best to assume a nonchalant demeanor. As nonchalant as one can be while walking on air.

Halfway to the warriors' building, she heard Sonic call, "Amy!"

She stopped. A guilty expression flashed briefly on her face, but she expunged it in an instant, before Sonic could catch a glimpse of it. "Yes, Sonic?" she said in even tones.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said. He caught up to her. "I have something for you."

"Do you?" she said coolly.

"Yeah. Here." He held up a sword.

She couldn't tell whether she ought to laugh or show disgust. "And why would I want that?" she said.

"Your training sword was destroyed," Sonic said. His expression betrayed confusion at having to answer that question. "You can use this instead."

Amy had watched Rouge in action long enough to know how to assume a haughty demeanor. "Oh, have I graduated to real swords, then?" she said. Sonic was taller than she was, but she contrived to look down upon him. "Am I good enough for you now? Do I have the smell of blood on me?"

His hand sank. "Why would you say something like that?" he said.

She gave him a belittling laugh. "I don't need that," she said. "I have my mallet, the mallet _I_ made, with my own materials and sweat and talent. I don't need your sword." She shook her head. "No, that's too specific. I don't need _you_."

"I see," he said. He deflated before her.

Amy flounced past him happily, a spiteful part of her satisfied.

"Amy," he called. She paused. "That's not blood I smell on you."

She tensed. "What of it?" she challenged. "You had your chance!"

"Nothing," he said, after a moment. "I hope it works out."

She snorted in his direction and left. Sonic said nothing more. It wasn't his place.

How he wished, he wished, he wished he knew what the right answer was. Why had he allowed the most difficult possible student to be his first?

Then again, that was over, wasn't it? She didn't need him. She'd said as much.

Sonic had told Amy he hoped it worked out. He'd merely been saying it before as a way to gracefully exit the conversation. Now, he put all his effort into hoping it.

* * *

><p>It was a wretched night. Three times the sentries beat the drums because they saw what they thought were bandits. Three times the village turned out- Sonic's lesson the night of the feast was being heeded- only to go back to bed because no attack was coming. Twice the bandits didn't attack; they headed into the forest at the sight of the village. The other time it wasn't bandits at all, but local wildlife the lookout imagined as bandits out of sheer anxiety.<p>

Throughout the night, some of the sentries spotted other bandits moving into the woods, though they didn't sound their drums. The news spread quickly amongst those still awake. There was no doubt about it. The bandits were moving into the neighborhood. Even the densest knew what that meant.

The village slept very poorly even when the drums weren't disturbing them. They knew that blood would flow come morning.

Whatever elation had come from the news of Sonic's successful raid had vanished. If there had been doubt still before, it was gone now: This battle would be one of extermination, one way or the other. Even those who'd advocated that from the start found it was an unpleasant prospect when faced up close.

The bandits assembled overnight and the peasants tried and failed to sleep. Morning couldn't come fast enough for either of them.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: He Did It Right<em>


	15. He Did It Right

"Turn around! Turn around!" Vector bellowed. The peasants fought the momentum from their pikes and came to a halt, lifted them vertically, spun, and started running back down the Alley.

"Great job, great job!" Vector encouraged. "That'll teach 'em, we can give 'em that all day!" Vector's chest swelled with pride. Three attacks by the bandits, three yo-yos. So far they hadn't done much to the bandits besides random arrow wounds, but for their part the peasants had come through uninjured. Vector hadn't even had to use his new spear yet.

The peasants were acquitting themselves well. They were no longer just holding the pikes out; now they were thrusting, jostling, prodding, and generally making their weapons ever more impenetrable. They were vastly quicker to maneuver, too.

When they got to the bottom of the Alley, though, Vector noticed something else: They were tired. As farmers they were used to rough, hard work. Even so, running back and forth with big heavy pikes wasn't something they could do indefinitely. He could see them starting to strain. He could see them leaning against their pikes for support. He could hear their labored breathing. He could smell the stench of their exertion. Several of them immediately went for the basins of water that had been set up nearby. The others did what they could to conserve their remaining strength.

Sonic skidded to a halt beside Vector. "How're you holding up?" he asked.

"We're starting to feel it," Vector said. "It's getting hotter, too, and that's not helping. At least the bandits are in the same boat."

"Not quite," said Sonic. "They've got numbers, remember? No bandit has attacked you twice. Tails and I have been watching."

Vector's heart sank. "So they're hitting us with fresh troops each time?"

"Trying to wear us out," Sonic confirmed. "Our guess of their numbers is that they'll have to start repeating now, but each group's had a while to rest."

"They can keep that up a lot longer than we can," said Vector with alarm.

"I know, so we're changing the plan. When they attack again, don't chase them out of the Alley. Stay back here."

"Roger," said Vector.

"And remember what we planned," Sonic said, a bit sterner this time. "If the robots come, let 'em in. Don't fight what you can't stop. Don't try and be a hero."

"Yeah, yeah," said Vector, but he wasn't really listening. "Hey, you! Stand back up. We're not done yet!"

"But they're not nearby," griped the peasant. "We can rest for now, right?"

A nearby watchman started beating his drum.

"Does that answer your question?" said Vector.

"We'll get you guys some more water," Sonic said.

"We'll need it," said Vector. He could see the bandits forming up on the far end of the Alley. The watchman stopped hitting the drum and started hitting his bell. Vector grabbed a basin, doused himself, dropped it, and brandished his spear. "Here they come again, boys! Get your dander up!"

Now that Sonic had pointed out what the bandits were doing, Vector saw things he'd missed before. Some of the bandits, especially those at the edges of their formation, had shields. They were cutting down the effectiveness of the peasants' archers, which had been minimal to begin with. The bandits didn't overly expose themselves when they tried to break through the pikes, so it looked like the peasants were more effective than they were. And, before, he'd believed the peasants had driven off the bandits. Since he was expecting it now, he heard the sound of a hunting horn before the bandits began to disengage. A retreat signal. The bandits obeyed it and fell back. Some of the peasants started to follow, but Vector restrained them, with words or less subtle methods as required.

Another attack after that. The sun was directly above them, now, and they were completely without protection from it. True to his word, Sonic had arranged for additional basins of water to be available between every assault, and it helped. It slowed their degradation, but didn't arrest it.

The tramping and stamping back and forth was kicking up a large cloud of dust that never completely settled. It burned the peasants' eyes and got caught in their lungs. After the fifth attack they were covered in a fine coating of it, excepting where their copious sweat washed it off or mixed with it.

The fifth attack drained what little energy the peasants had left. By the end of it they were barely moving their pikes at all. Twice a bandit managed to slip between them; twice Vector had to hold the line with his spear. The first time he killed the aggressor. The second time the bandit stopped short and, fully aware of the way the game was working out, retreated back outside the pikes on his own.

The bandits were pushing the peasants to their limits. As with a deer driven to exhaustion by hounds, even the threat of death couldn't force the peasants to move quickly now. When the bandits retreated, several of the peasants flopped to the ground. One began to shiver; his comrades immediately took him back to the main hall to be treated for heat stroke. Even the most stalwart peasants were relying on their pikes for support now, and several were sitting on the ground or against the fence.

Once more Sonic ran up to Vector. "We can't hold 'em again," said Vector. "We're bushed."

"That's why I brought some friends," Sonic replied cheerfully. Behind him, more pikemen were walking towards the Alley.

"Where'd they come from?" asked Vector.

"From the rest of the village, of course," said Sonic with a grin. "I pulled 'em from the south and west, plus all our reserves. Divvy up your pikemen and send 'em around, so that we're still defended everywhere. These guys are yours, now."

It took a couple of minutes, but soon enough the exhausted pikemen of the north were dispersing through the village, and the second wave was getting itself in line. Vector couldn't suppress his unease. He hadn't fought with these pikemen before, and they hadn't fought yet. They might have energy, but they had no experience.

Drums. Vector roared to rally the pikemen. A horn sang counterpoint, signaling the charge. The drums switched to bells. The bandits closed, arrows leapt out, pike clashed with armor...

A sixth attack. This one was the longest yet- the bandit leaders were trying to maximize their advantage, no doubt. Sonic had expertly timed deploying his reserves. The bandits had been expecting to have their way with pooped-out opponents. Instead, the peasants met their reckless charge with unexpected vigor and energy. Vector's fears about his charges were soon allayed when one of the peasants managed to score an eye shot- killing the bandit instantly and causing all his compatriots to pause for a moment. Vector ordered the peasants to give a good push, and soon the bandits were falling back. It was only for a moment, though. The bandits recovered their composure and soon were pressing just as hard again.

Here and there arrows caused wounds; here and there a bandit cursed and screamed, or even retreated on his own. But none of the blows was crippling, let alone fatal.

Push, retreat, stand, repeat, all in a thickening cloud of dust that made the whole scene seem dreamlike...

(Tails looked through his scope. Here and there he could draw a clear shot, a shot that, with Betsy's power, would be an instant kill. He didn't pull the trigger. He couldn't reload Betsy in his condition; he'd even needed help to get up here, on the roof of a building looking down the Alley. He had only one shot. He couldn't waste it.

He was sorely tempted by the officer on his horse that patrolled the back end of the Alley. The officer was looking through a spyglass of his own, keeping tabs on the progress of the battle. He was so defenseless! Tails' trigger finger itched; his tails jerked around violently. No, no, no, he had to control himself. Killing the officer would be easy and rewarding, but it wouldn't win or lose the day. Sonic had entrusted him with the fate of the battle. That had to come first, always. He would rather die himself than betray Sonic's trust.)

Push, retreat, stand, repeat...

At last the hunting horn called for the bandits to fall back. They left their dead comrade and retreated in good order. Even with fresh troops, Vector himself was too tired to chase them this time.

Vector walked back to the basins and overturned a whole one over his head. It very nearly sizzled on contact.

"Starting to feel it, huh?" said Sonic.

Vector dropped the basin. It landed nearly on his foot. "Don't do that!" he shouted. "And yeah, I'm feeling it. I'm not made to be out in the sun like this. I'm overheating."

"I can replace you, too, if you need," said Sonic.

"No, no, no, I've got it," said Vector hurriedly. "I was just saying. Keep the water coming and I'll be fine."

"Will do."

Vector looked down the Alley. "Strange how they've only attacked here, though," he remarked. Sonic laughed in response. "What's so funny?" Vector demanded.

"They've been probing our defenses everywhere," said Sonic. "Why do you suppose I've been zooming around and not just hanging out here? You've been too busy to hear the drums, that's all, and the attacks weren't serious, so we never rang the bells. Trust me, the rest of the stations aren't bored. Except maybe Shadow. The flooding's got 'em stumped so far."

"Oh," was all Vector could manage.

"If I knew they were just going to attack here, I'd send everyone here," Sonic said. "But we don't, so that's why we have to make do."

Vector nodded. "And we haven't seen robots yet, either. I'd have thought they'd have started them off right away."

"They can't replace robots," Sonic said. "Think about it. There are warriors everywhere, ready to turn to banditry as soon as they realize the pay's good. The bandit leaders will spend the lives of their men, 'cause they're cheap. But no one's making robots. They're irreplaceable. They won't send the robots until they're sure..."

Drums. Again.

"Form up," said Vector, still loudly but with less enthusiasm. He dumped another basin over himself, then jogged behind the line. "Lucky number seven, here we go!"

Drums sounded to the west. "Catch you later," said Sonic, and off he went.

"Right, right," said Vector without looking. He was preoccupied.

Something was wrong. The bandits were forming, sure, but they were further back than before. They were leaving a gap between themselves and the start of the Alley. What were they playing at?

A shower of arrows hit the ground in front of the peasants. They retreated in alarm.

"Archers! Damn!" swore Vector. "They're hiding behind the main line! Shoot back! Shoot back!"

The peasant archers tried to respond from their perches along the Alley, but it was pointless. Even the archer bandits would have some armor, and the peasants were firing from terrible angles. The front row of bandits had shields; it blocked their archers from firing directly, but it precluded almost any answering shot from the peasants. Another volley from the bandits hit directly in front of the peasants. One of them took an arrow clean through his foot. He dropped to the ground in pain.

"Get back, you idiot!" Vector grabbed him and bodily pulled him behind the line of peasants. "You can hop back to the main hall and get that looked out- later! We need everyone for now!" He waited a few more seconds, then shouted, "Retreat again! End of the alley!"

A new flight of arrows struck where the peasants had just been. They'd retreated just in time.

Vector stopped them at the end of the Alley. If they fell back any further, the bandits would be able to flank them when they charged. The peasants were as nervous about this as Vector. Knuckles' first rule of pikes resonated with them.

With this many pikemen in this position, they could cover the whole Alley. If they retreated any more, they'd leave a gap, a gap enemies could move into, like they had the first day when only Sonic's intervention had saved them...

"This is it!" said Vector. "Watch it, watch it, GET YOUR HEADS DOWN!"

More arrows. This time, a peasant was struck in the arm, and another took a glancing blow down his back. We can't stay here, thought Vector. We can't take casualties like this...

"Back!" he shouted. The peasants retreated a bit more, leaving the end of the Alley uncovered. "Listen close! When the enemy advances, we're gonna have to move forward! We gotta get back to our starting points before the bandits get to us! Understand?"

Another station along the north started beating its drum. The seconds stretched by, and no more arrows came. Vector could see the bandits starting to move. "Alright, forward!" he shouted.

Vector realized, too late, that the station that was banging its drum was a different one than usually covered the Alley. When that station transitioned to bells, it gave Vector pause.

Two robots moved in front of the bandits. They stomped down the Alley. The bandits followed behind them.

The left robot resembled a gorilla more than a man. It had a puny head, a thickly-armored, barrel-like chest, and a thin pelvis where most of its vitals were stored. The way it shambled forward kept its waist protected. Its oversized arms drooped all the way to the ground. One carried a large, cleaver-esque blade- certainly not its original armament, but one which, given its strength, was doubtlessly effective. Its type was used as a line-breaker during the Eggman Wars, and the appellation stuck.

The other robot was an Eggrobo, a model that had plagued countless nations by the thousand. It had thin, frail legs and arms, and all other features were part of a single ovoid mass. It had eyes obvious enough to give the impression of a face. Its red, yellow, and black color scheme was reputed to be that of Eggman himself.

Eggrobos had been equipped with jetpacks to start with, but this model's pack had long since broken. It walked unevenly and tentatively, as if it resented having to do so and could never quite get used to the idea. It was still a robot, though. Peasant arrows pattered from its metal skin like raindrops. In its hands was a broadsword that was practically a metal club.

Vector was caught gawking at the robots, the first he'd seen in years. Then it occurred to him- the peasants were still moving forwards! Just as he'd ordered them to do, they were resuming their original positions, and now the robots were bearing down on them...

(Sonic was in motion the moment he heard bells. He was running from where he'd been in the west towards the Alley. He'd be there in time- he had to be there in time.)

"Fall back! Get back! RUN!" screamed Vector. His panic was infectious. The peasants turned instantly from a line to a mob. They fled mindlessly back towards the end of the Alley.

Not fast enough. Reversing the momentum of the pikes took too long, their top speed was too slow. The robots were going to catch them. One of the peasants fell; Vector dropped his spear, grabbed him, and pitched the peasant over the wall.

(He had to make a two-second detour to get into vocal range of Amy; he called for her, then continued running. The Alley was so close...)

They weren't going to make it. The robots would catch them, butcher them, expose the whole village to sword and flame...

Vector ran forward, closing with the robots quicker than they'd expected. He caught the Eggrobo's sword arm before it could begin the forward part of its swing. He swiftly put the arm in a hammerlock to tie it down.

(No! The peasants were too thick, he couldn't get through; the pikes were too tall, he couldn't jump over; he had to bull through, somehow...)

Before the line-breaker could turn to face him, Vector clamped his enormous jaws down on its left arm. The powerful muscles of his maw cemented Vector as the rope in a tug-of-war between the robots. When the Eggrobo pulled, it jostled the line-breaker. When the line-breaker pulled, it nearly yanked the Eggrobo off of its feet.

Then they both began to pull, and Vector's body began to come apart.

He cried out in agony, but he did not let go, not with arms, not with jaws. He would never let go, they would have to rip him limb-from-limb...

The Eggrobo transferred its sword from right hand to left. Vector never saw this. So he never saw the blow coming.

Vector had never felt pain like this. It was so intense his jaws relaxed. The line-breaker broke free from his grasp.

It broke free just in time to raise its cleaver to block Sonic's attack.

Sonic had launched himself so far into the air that the line-breaker had to stand almost upright to deflect him. Sonic's small body, with tremendous speed behind it, clashed against the motionless but massive line-breaker. The clang of steel reverberated with enough volume and sharpness to shake the bones of those who heard it. The line-breaker staggered back a step while keeping its upright posture.

Sonic pushed off from the meeting of their blades, going upside down and pulling it into a somersault that came down behind the line-breaker. Somehow in the midst of that he shouted, "TAILS!"

A single crossbow bolt tore into the line-breaker's exposed waist. It crackled and sizzled and fell.

Before it even hit the ground, before the Eggrobo could turn, Sonic darted behind it. The Eggrobo relied on hydraulics for its limbs, and behind its knees those hydraulic lines had precious little protection.

Sonic plunged his katana through the fragile metal skin behind the Eggrobo's knee. When he penetrated into the hydraulic line, the sudden release of pressure tore the sword from his grasp and ejected it into one of the fence posts nearby. The Eggrobo pitched backwards; Sonic had to dive out of the way to avoid being flattened.

"AMY!" he called.

She flung herself down from atop the fence. Her mallet was in a two-handed grip at maximum elevation above her head. Every erg of energy from falling and from muscle she committed to her mallet. Her blow was like a thunderbolt. The Eggrobo's front armor caved in and transmitted the shock to the vulnerable systems within. The Eggrobo convulsed. The lights that were part of its eyes went out.

Amy hit the ground hard. Aiming for maximum energy had guaranteed a rough landing. The air fled from her lungs.

Silence settled over the battlefield for a moment. The peasants had stopped fleeing, and the bandits had stopped charging, while they watched the fight against the robots. Now the bandits, murmuring in disbelief, began to fall back. They'd charged the peasant lines repeatedly and accomplished nothing, and now they'd seen two of their robots destroyed. They wouldn't attack again, not today. None of the peasant archers had the presence of mind to harry them.

Sonic slowly, with great effort, walked over to Vector. He must have had a sad expression on his face, for Vector's first question was, "Did we win?"

Sonic knelt next to Vector's head. "We won," he said softly. "We won."

"Oh, good," said Vector. His eyes were wide open, impossibly wide open. He was gasping his breaths. "Sonic? I... can't feel my right arm at all, and... and I don't feel any pain... am I alright?"

Sonic could have pointed out that Vector couldn't feel his arm because it was no longer attached. Instead he lied gently, "Everything will be fine."

"See?" said Vector. "I showed 'em. I showed 'em what a real warrior does. A real warrior doesn't... doesn't use peasants so he can fight... he gives himself... so peasants can... can..."

Vector swallowed. "Was I good?" he said desperately. "Did I do it right? Tell me, Sonic! Did I do it right? Was I a warrior? A real one?"

"Yes," said Sonic. "You were real. You did it right. You were as good a warrior as any I've ever met."

Vector managed to smile. "Thanks, Sonic. I needed to hear that... from you, most of all... you were the... the one... I... most... I..."

Vector didn't have enough breath to finish his sentence. Nor did he take another breath to try again.

Sonic's sword fell from the fence post. It clanged to the ground, kicking up a swirl of dust that soon settled. It was the only sound to be heard.

Sonic sighed. "Poor Vector," he said, with barely enough voice to count as a whisper. "I told you not to be a hero."

He closed the crocodile's lifeless eyes.

* * *

><p>Storm clouds gathered to the west. It would rain that night.<p>

Sonic entered in to the warrior's building as dinner was being served. He sat down with his chow. He didn't always. Sonic sometimes would take his food with him- he called it a "meals on wheels", a term he found amusing for reasons other people couldn't grasp.

This time, he sat down to eat with the others. Most of the others. Amy and Shadow were conspicuously absent. No one mentioned it.

Sonic took a few bites before he spoke. "If you wanted to say goodbye to Vector, it's now or never. We're burning his body tonight."

The others nodded slowly. They understood. This had been discussed before. There was nowhere to bury bodies while the village was under siege. No one knew how long the siege would last, so saving bodies for later burial didn't make sense and only risked spreading disease. All involved had agreed to burn the bodies of those who died during the fighting.

No one moved.

Sonic raised his bowl. "To Vector," he said. "He did it right."

"To Vector," the others chorused.

They ate a bit more. No one was wasting any food these days, not when any meal could be their last. Vector wouldn't have approved.

"On the plus side," said Rouge, "if we were in this for a payoff, we'd be splitting it one fewer way now."

"How is that a plus side?" said Knuckles. "We're not in it for a payoff."

"Then I'd say the village definitely got its money's worth, didn't they?"

Knuckles frowned in a way that suggested he didn't get the joke but didn't want to say anything about it. Sonic and Tails didn't call him on it. They didn't get it either.

"The real plus side," said Tails, "is that they're down two robots. They had five to start with, right? They've already lost two. That's progress."

"So all we have to do is trade one warrior for two robots, huh?" said Knuckles. "Great plan. Just peachy. You wanna be next, then?"

"They'd run out of robots before we ran out of warriors," Rouge said.

"I'm not in the mood for gallows humor," said Knuckles.

"Who said I was joking?"

"Or mind games."

"You're no fun."

"Knux, I'll need you to take the Alley now," said Sonic. "Rouge, you'll shift to the west. You'll have to take your part of the north along with it."

"All business, are we?" said Rouge.

"If I don't need to, I don't look back," Sonic said. "Time won't wait, and I've got so much to do."

"It's probably dangerous to look backwards, the way you run."

Sonic seemed not to notice the jibe. "Hey," he said tentatively, "anyone got any suggestions?"

This gave the others pause. Sonic had asked if they had questions on previous occasions, and he had always welcomed their opinions, but he'd never solicited them.

"No, so far so good," said Tails.

"Except for Vector," said Rouge.

"Well, what would you have done?" Tails said angrily.

"I'm not saying I would have done anything differently. I was just saying."

"Well, don't!"

Sonic waited for a bit after that. No one spoke again. He rose. "In that case, I'm gonna take a look around. Stay frosty."

Once he was outside the building, Rouge gave Tails an askance look. "Smoke his sausage some more, why don't you."

"What does that even mean?" replied Tails, though his face implied he had a pretty shrewd idea.

"Let's just say that if anything, anywhere, ever came to a vote, Sonic would always have two votes."

"Sonic's my friend," Tails said, his face becoming fierce.

"He's not your friend. He's your idol. You worship him."

Tails tried to find a way to argue the point and couldn't manage it. He fell back on, "So?"

Rouge shook her head. "You're a yes-man. You'll always tell him what he wants to hear, even if it's not what he needs."

"You didn't have any ideas!" Tails said hotly.

"The conversation didn't get very far, did it? Not when you short-circuited it."

"Sonic needed that," Tails said. "He needed our support right then. Even Sonic can feel..." he stopped short, but he'd already said too much.

"What?" said Rouge. "What can Sonic feel?"

"Doubt."

The word hung in the air like a bad smell. It was noxious and inescapable.

Knuckles shrugged. "He'll be fine. You don't survive fifteen years of fighting if doubt gets you down for long."

"I know that," replied Tails. "I was just explaining why I said what I did."

"Well, who's to say..." began Rouge. A clash of steel cut them off. Their faces all looked to the door.

"I didn't hear bells or drums," said Knuckles.

"Me neither," said Tails, getting painfully to his feet. "Knuckles, could you grab Betsy for me?"

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Another Language<em>


	16. Another Language

Shadow and Amy lay in a haze in their hiding spot. Amy had made some improvements. A rock propped open the trapdoor to allow cool air to circulate. She'd laid down a blanket to cover the area which was much more comfortable than the rough sacks that they'd laid on before.

The company helped, too. The activities in which the company had participated helped even more.

Amy sighed contentedly and rubbed one of Shadow's ears. She felt warm all over. Out there was confusion and chaos and problems and complications and dead friends. None of it could get down here. It couldn't touch what she and Shadow had. This... this was simple. This was good.

Shadow's eyes were closed. Amy knew him well enough to understand that he was probably thinking hard rather than asleep. She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. "You can talk to me," she said in reassuring tones.

Shadow opened his eyes. "I think... I think I may have been mistaken, before," he said.

"About what?" Amy said. Her voice had concern, but no worry. Nothing bad could exist here.

"My life's been so simple. No past. No future. Just the flash of a sword. I... I may have been doing myself wrong, thinking like that."

"There's an awful lot to life," Amy said knowingly. "People of all stripes, and situations of all types... every kind of different emotion and feeling... it's awfully complicated."

"Maybe. But... worth it, I think."

Amy smiled in delight. "Shadow, it's amazing to hear you say things like that. I used to pity you. Now I don't. You're coming alive, Shadow. You have a life of your own now. You're not a slave to your sword any more."

Shadow nodded. "Such a novel concept. I'll tell you this, though. It's been a long, rough road, but now that I'm finally here, I'll never turn back."

Amy said nothing. Her heart was too full with joy.

"I wonder where I go next."

"Just come with me," Amy said. "I don't know where I'm going yet, myself, but surely we can find a way if we go together."

Shadow frowned. "I thought you were following Sonic."

Amy's comfortable world buckled a bit. "Sonic? Oh, don't worry about that," she said, forcing her voice into nonchalance. "I'm not following him anymore."

"You went through all the trouble to be his student, though. Why stop?"

Amy's face darkened. "There was no room for me in his world. In his world, compromise doesn't exist. He didn't... appreciate me the way you do. His life was too full."

Against Amy's expectations, Shadow reacted to that. He began to rise. Amy reached after him in alarm, trying to keep him pressed against her. "What is it?"

He didn't respond. Amy had forgotten. No one could not-answer a question like Shadow. He went through the trapdoor. "Shadow, wait! Where are you going?"

She followed him. Shadow had grabbed his sword and was heading for the exit.

"I don't know what you think you're... come back, Shadow!" Amy had to pause a moment to make sure she was decent. By the time she got out the door, she'd lost sight of him. Close enough, though, she heard voices saying words she'd hoped never to hear.

"Draw your sword, Sonic Hedgehog. It's time to fight me."

* * *

><p>Sonic had exited the warrior's building with a full stomach and an empty heart. It had felt good to have Tails' reassurance- okay, it felt really good. All the same, he couldn't help but feel lacking. Vector's death had been so... pointless, so preventable.<p>

_Am I slowing down?_

The thought was anathema to Sonic. He choked on the taste of it. It wouldn't go away, though. It seemed to him that he should have been able to get to Vector in time; he'd planned his response knowing he could get anywhere in the village quickly; if that ability was compromised...

He shook his head. He had to be sure. There was only one way to know.

He stepped out into the village proper and stretched a few times. Then he ran.

This wasn't like other times he'd run. Sometimes he'd run to get to a destination, other times just for the pleasure of it. This time he had only one purpose: maximizing his speed.

Faster, faster, faster he ran, dodging past villagers, angling around buildings, sailing over baskets and weapons and basins and other garbage. To anyone else the world would have been a blur. He alone possessed a mind as quick as his feet.

Faster...

He had to turn constantly. The world was confining.

Was this it? Was he maxed out? Or was the village too small to let him reach his maximum potential?

And if this was it, was it as fast as he'd been before?

It occurred to Sonic that, all these years, he'd taken his speed for granted. He'd never tried to measure it or understand it any more than he'd tried to understand his fur color. It was just how things were. The thought of losing it was more than threatening. It was like facing down death.

He sped through the village, his mind awash in confusion...

Shadow stepped into his path.

Sonic skidded to a halt. "Yo, Shadow, what's up?" he said.

Shadow turned to place his right shoulder nearer to Sonic. He grasped his scabbard with his left hand and positioned his right above the hilt of his sword. "Draw your sword, Sonic Hedgehog," he said. "It's time to fight me."

Sonic waved him off. "You said _after_ the battle's over is when we fight. There are a bunch of bandits still alive. So sorry, but it'll have to wait."

"Don't you dare turn your back on me, Sonic!" Shadow said as Sonic began to move. Sonic paused.

"What's this all about?" said Sonic.

"I need to ask you some questions. I don't have the words for them. This is the only language I really know."

"Neither of us knows how to hold back," Sonic pointed out.

"So defend yourself, or die on the spot."

Sonic turned to face Shadow fully. Before his feet settled, Shadow struck.

It was battoujutsu- the art of drawing the sword, the fastest attack in Shadow's arsenal, faster than the strike of a snake or the lash of a chameleon's tongue.

"Shadow," said Sonic with disappointment, "I thought you were being serious."

Sonic's block had been instinctive and instant. It stopped Shadow cold. Shadow had no choice but to lean further into it, in the hopes that when Sonic disengaged it would at least be sloppy and give him time to recover.

"You've shown me that one already," Sonic said. "You'll have to do better than that."

Wrath boiled up out of Shadow. His usual cool evaporated in the face of this new, hot rage. He sprang backwards with a suddenness that prevented Sonic from following up easily. Shadow took several strides at lightning speed, shooting across to Sonic's left.

When Shadow got to his destination and readied his strike, he was shocked to find Sonic's blade whizzing towards his face. He tumbled out of range. Sonic was on him in an instant, forcing Shadow into an uncomfortable defense.

"You're not faster than me," said Sonic. "Tricks like that won't work."

Shadow couldn't stand being defensive. He especially couldn't stand the unconcerned smile on Sonic's face. He parried half a dozen attacks before he found his opening. He was able to knock Sonic's blade far to his right side. There was no way Sonic would be able to get it back in time to block effectively. Shadow lunged for the kill.

Sonic twirled on the spot. The motion caused Shadow's attack to catch on the sheath of Sonic's sword and carried Shadow's katana away from its target. Sonic stepped in close. Shadow withdrew his sword, but he was badly overextended. Sonic brought the butt of his sword down on Shadow's head.

The blow caused Shadow's vision to blur for a moment, but he was tougher than that. He disentangled himself from Sonic and surveyed him warily from just outside of sword range.

Sonic's style was unique, Shadow reflected. He owed allegiance to no school. His ability to improvise was unmatched. In which case, Shadow should engage him with fundamentals. Nothing flashy, just mistake-free pressure until Sonic broke.

He attacked from above with no expectation that the blow would connect. When Sonic did block, Shadow flowed easily off of it into a horizontal stroke. Sonic dodged backwards, so Shadow stepped in and lunged. Sonic turned his body slightly. Shadow's katana slipped behind his body, so close that Sonic's body heat warmed the sword's tip. Sonic counter-attacked, forcing Shadow back.

Their duel raged back and forth across the village. The clanging of steel drew a crowd in short order. The villagers murmured and whispered. Why were the hedgehogs fighting each other? Weren't the bandits out there? What could they hope to accomplish?

Amy couldn't contain herself any longer. "Shadow! That's enough!"

Her words didn't reach him. Even as she spoke, Shadow attacked Sonic with renewed fury. Sonic danced backwards to avoid it.

"Sonic! You've got to stop! You'll kill each other!" she called. Sonic leapt high over Shadow and twisted in the air, coming down facing Shadow's back. It took too long, though. By the time he landed, Shadow was already spinning to attack again.

Neither Sonic nor Shadow backed down. They were both incredibly fast, but unused to fighting equals in that metric. Shadow's offense was impeccable; his defense lasted only long enough to launch a counter-offensive. Sonic was mercurial. Both his attack and defense were fluid and flowed from one to the other without break or pause. Shadow, even in the grip of fury, was unerringly precise and focused. Sonic's motions were unpredictable, but they seemed wilder than they were. Those with an eye for such things could tell he was in complete control over even the most impromptu maneuver.

They could also tell that, against all reason, he was smiling.

Shadow crossed swords with Sonic at close range. He bore down, trying to force Sonic off-balance, but Sonic met him push for push. "Why?" demanded Shadow through gritted teeth. "What are you?"

"Me? I'm the Knight of the Wind."

The hedgehogs broke apart. "I thought you said that was a lifetime ago," Shadow said.

"It was a lifetime ago that they called me that," Sonic corrected. "It's still what I am."

He stepped to his right. Shadow mimicked him. They circled each other, attuned to the other's movement. Their focus was absolute.

"That's enough. Shadow, don't move."

It was Tails' voice, and this voice reached Shadow, perhaps because it came from behind the business end of Betsy. Shadow paused. "Don't interfere," he warned.

"No more, Shadow. You attack again and I'll kill you, so help me God."

Shadow looked to Tails. His face blazed with anger. "No one threatens me. My sword will claim you more easily than him."

"Don't try it," said Tails. "Even if I don't kill you, Sonic will. You're not good enough to face both of us at once. You know that for a fact. So back down, and sheathe your sword."

Pure hate dominated Shadow's countenance. He didn't move for several long seconds. People imagined they could hear Betsy's bowstring straining. Shadow seemed to be calculating his chances when he wasn't despising this interruption.

"Don't even think about it, Shadow," said Tails. "I may be weakened, but it hasn't affected my aim. You're not that lucky, punk."

Finally Shadow moved to return his katana to his hip. He snapped it into place with more force than was necessary.

"There we go," said Tails. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He began to lower Betsy.

At the first hint of downward motion Shadow attacked again- one more battoujutsu. This was the third time Sonic had seen the move. It never had a chance. Sonic angled his katana so that Shadow's blade slid cleanly up its length. With a flick of Sonic's wrist, Shadow's attack sailed over Sonic's head, leaving Shadow totally exposed. Sonic struck downwards in retaliation.

The blow knocked Shadow down onto his knees and nearly broke his collarbone. Shadow gasped in air. Why wasn't he dead?

He looked up. Sonic's grin was too wide to fit through a doorway. He was holding his sword reversed. He'd hit Shadow with the blunt side.

"You don't get angry often, huh?" said Sonic. "You didn't know what to do with it. It made you stupid. Wake up!"

Shadow's breathing, which had been ragged, slowed and evened out. He relaxed his jaw, which was sore after being clenched tightly for the whole fight. Shadow hadn't even noticed that he'd balled his hands into fists. He released his hands, as well.

"Anger... huh?" he said. He slowly rose. Once more he sheathed his sword. This time Sonic didn't bother to guard himself against it. He knew no attack was forthcoming.

"Did you find out what you wanted?" said Sonic. "Did I give you a good answer?"

"More or less," Shadow said with a grimace. He stepped in close to Sonic and dropped his voice. "You know, you're the one she wants."

Sonic blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topics, then nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"It... makes me wonder..." Shadow closed his mouth with a huff. "Language is so crude. I thought we communicated better with our swords."

"Tails was right, though. We had to stop. If one of us did win, where would that leave the village?"

"Who cares?" Shadow replied.

The glib response caught Sonic by surprise. He chuckled. "Right... I gotcha. Anyway, don't sell yourself too short with Amy."

Shadow shook his head. "Have you ever seen someone tossed into the sea who can't swim?"

"Welcome to the real world, buddy," said Sonic cheerfully. "That's everyone." He reopened some distance and started speaking loudly enough to be heard by all. "By the way, thanks. I needed that. I was worried I might be slowing down. Nah, I've still got it."

Shadow blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not dead, are you?"

Surprise became visible across Shadow's face. "You said you didn't know how to hold back!"

Sonic gave him a roguish wink. "You weren't yourself. Next time, come at me full force. _After_ we save the village."

A slight smile emerged from Shadow. "Fine. You've bought me off. For a little while, at least."

"Catch ya later," Sonic said. He walked away. As he passed Tails, he said, "That'll be enough for now."

Tails was much slower to lower Betsy this time. "That jerk. He would really have killed you."

"Were you worried?" Sonic asked.

"I wasn't going to take the chance," Tails answered. "I know you were having fun, but..."

"You're a good friend, Tails," Sonic said. "Just one question. What string were you using?"

Tails grimaced. "Number one. It's all I had time for."

Sonic jerked his head in Shadow's direction. The black hedgehog was wandering back towards Amy, who only now was allowing her hands to drop from her face. "Not quick enough. For him? Number three, or nothing."

"Really?"

"Really."

Tails frowned. "But if that's true, then... you weren't holding back, were you?"

Sonic grinned and walked past Tails. "We've got to get some rest tonight," he said over his shoulder. "Today's been a long day, and tomorrow's gonna be miserable."

As Tails watched him go, one thought remained in his mind. _Sonic, you only ever care about the things that can't kill you. You're impossible._

He removed the bolt from Betsy's firing line.

* * *

><p>"You know, the worst part about being in the reserves is the waiting," said Kenji.<p>

"Here we go again," said Koji, rolling his eyes.

"I mean, we hear drums everywhere, and sometimes bells, so we know that fighting is going on somewhere, but we can't do anything! We have to sit on our hands and wait for Sonic to come get us. It's so frustrating!"

They saw Sonic approaching. The reserves got to their feet, pikes in hand, but Sonic blew past them without even slowing down, and streaked on to the far side of the village. The reserves collectively exhaled. Some of them sat. Seiji remained standing. He dug into the earth with his pike.

"What was I saying?" asked Kenji.

"Nothing you haven't said before," said Koji.

"Oh, right, about how frustrating it is to be reserves!"

"Give it a rest!" Koji said. "It's okay if you talk, it gives us something to think about, but I'm tired of listening to you say- again- how bored you are!"

No one said anything for a bit. They listened to the drums that were sounding in three different directions. West, northeast, and Alley. The bandits were probing the whole perimeter. If the reserves were called, it could be to anywhere.

"Too bad about Vector," said Kenji. "He was so... sincere. He wanted to be a warrior more than anything."

"And he got his wish," said Koji.

"Sorta," said Kenji. "I wish he'd have lived, though. I felt like he had more to offer."

"Didn't Ryoga?" countered Koji.

"Well, yeah, I guess. War sucks, doesn't it?"

"So far."

"At least when Vector died, he died fighting. He'd have wanted that, right?"

"I think he'd have preferred to live."

"Me, too," said Kenji after a moment. "Still, if we could've kept him, and had someone else died instead, like..." He seemed to struggle. "Hey, if you could only keep one warrior, who would it be?"

"Sonic."

"Sonic."

"Sonic."

"Sonic."

The other reserves had spoken simultaneously and unanimously.

Kenji chuckled. "That question flopped. I suppose it was kind of dumb."

Bells began ringing in the direction of the Alley. The reserves got to their feet. Would it be this time, then?

Sonic came roaring past. Once more, he made no motion in their direction whatsoever. The reserves stayed on their feet for a bit. There was no point to it. Sonic didn't return to get them. He hadn't all day. They sat again, except Seiji.

"What are you doing there, Seiji?" asked Koji.

Seiji froze at the sound of his name. "Nothing," he said lamely.

Kenji looked over, curious now. "What are those marks in the dirt?"

The look on Seiji's face indicated that answering pained him. "I was counting how many times Sir Sonic ran past," he said.

Koji's lips moved as he counted. He whistled. "I didn't realize it was that many," he said.

Seiji nodded. "It's starting to worry me. He won't last."

"Maybe," said Kenji, "but I don't think he'd be pushing this hard if he didn't think he could take it. I suspect we don't understand what his limits really are."

"We know he has limits, though," said Koji. "Doesn't he?"

New drums joined the beat, these coming from the northwest corner. Buildings blocked most of the view between the reserves and that corner, but they did see Sonic running pell-mell for the new area.

"I think we'll know soon," said Seiji.

* * *

><p>Knuckles led the pikemen differently from Vector. Vector had stood behind them to backstop the pikes with his spear. Knuckles occupied a flank with his claymore. He ordered the peasants to give him plenty of room to work with. That way he was able to form them into two ranks, dramatically increasing the difficulty of getting through them.<p>

It also let him unleash himself without hesitation.

The bandits were using archers on every attack. They would march a group of bandits down the Alley, but stop short of the pikes. Their archers would use their comrades' position to range where the pikemen were and fire a volley.

Knuckles' counter to this was deft maneuvering of his charges. Sometimes he retreated, sometimes he charged into the bandits and forced them back. His tactics were exhausting, but they kept the peasants mostly safe; only a couple took arrow wounds. In contrast, one bandit was killed by pikes, and another two fell to brutal swings from the claymore, along with the usual assortment of chance arrow wounds.

Knuckles knew he couldn't sustain a battle of attrition, but so far the exchange rate was much in his favor.

The bandits didn't keep up this strategy for long. After three approaches, they backed off. Some of them watched the peasants warily down the length of the Alley, while their archers took random pot-shots. It exhausted everyone involved but accomplished nothing.

Meanwhile, the rest of the bandits circled the village on horseback. They appeared here and there to ride up towards the fence and harass the sentries with arrows. They were like floodwaters. They probed the entire perimeter, looking for the slightest weakness. Any opening would have invited a lethal inrush.

Everywhere they went, pikemen were waiting for them.

Everywhere they went, Sonic followed.

They knew him, now. The rest of the defenders were still anonymous to the bandits. One was as good as another. When they saw Sonic, though, they noticed him specifically. They would point and whisper, and a little of their confidence would be blunted.

It made Sonic grin.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Fear the Night<em>


	17. Fear the Night

Sonic's instructions to them that night were brief.

"Tails, are you better now?"

"Getting there," his friend answered. "I should be 90% tomorrow."

"Spend more time around the Alley. They're getting aggressive with their archers. We'll probably need some counterfire soon. I'm guessing number two."

"Got it."

"Knux, how are you on bodies?"

"Three hurt today, two seriously," Knuckles answered. "I can make it work."

"Tell me early if you need more."

"Yes."

"Rouge, I need a headcount on the bandits."

"Tonight?"

"Whenever you're up to it."

She smiled mischievously. "Sounds like fun."

"Zero footprint, you hear me? I don't want them to even know you were there."

"That's my specialty."

"And where are Amy and Shad... you know, forget I asked."

He walked right on back out. The other three stared after him.

"Have you ever seen him like this?" Knuckles asked Tails.

The fox shook his head. "Very rarely," he said. "It's awfully early in the campaign for him to get to this point."

Knuckles gave a hmph. "Maybe Vector's death is bugging him still."

"Well," said Rouge, "you'd better not die, then. We wouldn't want Sonic to worry more."

Knuckles rolled his eyes. "Nice to know why you want me alive."

"Otherwise you'd forget that anyone does want you alive," Rouge said, and although she was smiling, she was both joking and not joking.

Knuckles looked over at her. She was already laying down on her mat. "Turning in early?"

"If I'm gonna sneak in there tonight," she said.

"Have fun with that."

"I plan to."

* * *

><p>Rouge dangled a thin, golden chain in front of her eyes. At the end of the chain was a ring with a reasonably large diamond in it. It occurred to her, in a vague, distant way, that the bandit had held the chain in just this fashion not long ago.<p>

He should not have tempted her. That was his first mistake.

She heard the faraway call of a hunting horn, as she knew she would. It had been inevitable. Still... she'd hoped it would have waited until morning.

Sonic stormed into the warrior's room. He glanced around. Rouge knew he was looking for her. She cocked her head curiously, though her gaze didn't leave her prize. "Do you ever sleep?" she asked him.

"Damn it, Rouge!" Sonic exploded. "What part of 'zero footprint' did you not understand?"

"I know," she answered. Around her, the other warriors were stirring, awakened by the conversation.

He made a gesture that said he expected more. "That's it?"

"If it helps, I'm sorry," she said.

"Well, it doesn't! You know what this means, don't you? It means that they'll start attacking us at night, too. And it'll be dirty, like how you killed their sentry."

She nodded. "Yes. He never made a sound. I was hoping they wouldn't find his body until morning."

"Hoping they... Rouge, I... I don't even know what to say. I thought you were a professional."

"We all have our vices," she said.

"Couldn't you have contained yourself a few more days?"

A frown crept on to her face. "Contained? Do you know what you're asking?"

"I'm asking you why you didn't show a little self-control."

She looked to him for the first time. "You think it's just a matter of willpower? Have you ever offered a drink to an alcoholic who's trying to quit? Have you seen what happens to him?"

"No," Sonic said bluntly.

"Try it, sometime. It's enlightening. If you had, you never would have made such a _fucking stupid mistake as thinking I don't have willpower_!"

She hadn't raised her voice, yet there was an intensity to her words that would have set flowers aflame. Sonic was momentarily at a loss.

"Wha's gong 'n?" Amy muttered.

Sonic shook his head to clear it. "Nothing for you. For tonight, at least. From now on we'll have to have a night watch. Shadow, let's go. We'll split tonight."

"I understand." Shadow rose and walked out.

Rouge settled down onto her mat. She coiled the chain up tightly in her fist. She hadn't spent any coin on it, yet it had been inordinately expensive.

* * *

><p>Morning came, with some reluctance. The days were getting shorter. The sun seemed to debate the value of rising at all. The overcast skies extended the dawn and kept the day from ever really getting started.<p>

"They found one of our sentries dead this morning."

Sonic looked at the other warriors, meeting their gazes in turn. He pointedly did not look at Rouge.

"We're going to have to start night patrols. We'll divide the nights into three. There are six of us, still, so three of us per night will get it done. You can sleep through the other nights. Knuckles, Amy, Tails, you'll get tonight."

They nodded.

"It won't fix everything, but it's better than nothing. And the sentries are all motivated to keep a good watch now."

"That's a macabre thought," said Amy.

"It's the only good I could find. We're gonna have to be ready to respond to night attacks, too."

"That puzzles me," said Amy. "Why haven't they attacked us at night already?"

Knuckles huffed. "Coordination. It's almost as dangerous for the attackers as the defenders to attack at night. You can't work together the way you can in the daytime, everyone's on edge... more than one army has attacked itself, trying night attacks."

"But now that we've hit them at night, they're likely to give it another thought," Sonic agreed. "Speaking of which... Rouge, what did you find out last night?"

All eyes looked to Rouge, but she met none of them. She looked blankly in a random direction. Her voice, though, was clear and deliberate. "The peasants' guesses were off. I counted sixty bandits tonight. Of them, twenty are injured. Seven are critically hurt. I doubt we'll need to do anything more to kill them. The other thirteen are walking wounded. In a pinch, they could fight again, though they probably wouldn't be very effective."

Sonic nodded. "Good. It's a start. Just remember, if the bandits were holding anything back before, they won't now. All bets are off. Stay alert."

They nodded in acknowledgement.

"Let's go."

Rouge lingered. She looked at no one as they left. She was lost in thought.

The room quieted down. Rouge waited until silence reigned before she stood. Her eyes caught on red.

"Knuckles!" she said. "I thought you left."

"Nope," he said. His face was expressionless. Rouge struggled to read him. He really was like a rock sometimes.

"Are you happy now?" she said bitterly. "Did I confirm your low opinion of me?"

"Not really. I was surprised, more than anything. You're normally in such complete control. What made you lose it?"

"I don't need to tell you," she said sullenly.

"Maybe not. But I think you want to."

She gave a slow breath. "I was skirting around the edges of the camp," she said in a dull voice. "I... oh, I hate saying things like this. I got careless. While I was close to the wounded getting my count, one of the sentries started to roll around to my position. I didn't realize it quickly enough to get out of there. So I had to either bushwhack him or hope he didn't find me. I don't count on hope. I killed him. I wasn't in much of a position to hide the body, so I had to just slink away."

She sighed. The gesture was rich with embarrassment. "I'm not proud of this, okay? I should be better than that. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about it."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't try to sell anyone the crock of shit you just tried to sell me."

Rouge roared and punched her fist into her thigh. It made a hard smack sound. "Why?" she said. "I'm a _good_ liar! How do you know? Why can you see through me? "

"Easy. Your lips are moving."

"No glib comebacks from you, anteater," she snarled. "Tell me!"

"Tell me what really happened last night, and I will."

She tossed her head. "Why should I believe you?"

"I know you're not used to taking people at their word." His posture became solid as stone. He was a statue that breathed. "But my word is worth something."

Rouge gave him a suspicious look, like a mouse searching for the trap beneath the cheese. "Fine," she said.

"And remember: I'll know if you're lying."

Rouge's expression made it clear she wished nothing more than to forget that fact. "The sentry was goofing off. He had this chain out." She unclasped a pocket sewn into her left glove. The chain and its diamond-bearing ring fell out into her hand. "He was twirling it. It was sparkling in the torchlight."

"It is pretty."

She answered with a bark of a laugh. "It's got size, sure, but the cut is amateurish, the color's poor, and the clarity is barely above industrial grade. Five years ago I wouldn't even have bothered." After a moment, she closed her eyes. "Who am I kidding? Sure, I would have bothered. Five years ago... even ten years ago."

"You killed him over the diamond?"

"It's not about the diamond, itself. It's about the taking of the diamond."

"So you killed him so you could indulge your penchant for theft." His voice carried no hint of judgment, but Rouge reacted to it as if it did.

"You don't get it," she said. Desperation crept into her voice. "He... I have rules, rules that tell me when it's okay. That sentry met every criteria. He thought he was stronger than he was. He didn't deserve it- it wasn't even his, I bet. I prevented waste, since he'd be dead in the next few days anyway. All my rules said it was okay!"

"Your rules let you kill people when you rob them?"

"N-no," she said with a stutter, "but he was a bandit, so he deserved to die. I compromised, and it worked. It was a win-win."

Knuckles shook his head as he reached his conclusion. "Rouge, you are a grade-A addict."

He might have expected her to deny it, or laugh at him, or dismiss him out of hand. Instead her response was arrogant. "I know that. Of course I know! I'm in control, though. I saw him on my way in, but I was able to restrain myself until I was on my way out. Okay, so I wasn't able to fully deny myself. But if you had an addiction like this, you'd know that I'm doing quite well at managing it."

"Well, acknowledging the problem is a good first step. You ever tell anyone else about this?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who would I tell? My kind prey on weakness and vice. The only reason I'm telling you is because you bought the information."

"No wonder you're still an addict, then."

"What's that?" she said with a threatening tone.

"Some things you can't face on your own. You just can't. That's the next part of beating addiction, you know. Getting help."

"Ha! I don't need anyone's help. I never have. And that's awfully rich coming from you," she said accusingly. "How long have you been alone? How long have you survived without help from anyone?"

Her words seemed to surprise him. "You know, you're right."

"Don't try to lecture me on the demerits of being alone," she said. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Maybe. You're still an addict."

"A highly functioning addict!" she said with pride.

Knuckles seemed to be debating something. He reached a hand over his sternum and placed the heel of his hand against his armor. He twisted, something clicked, and a golden disk popped out of his armor to rest in his hand. "Take this," he said.

She took it in her hand, sniffed it once, bit it. "Pfft! Not even real gold. Worthless."

Knuckles looked upwards with exasperation. "Look at the front of it," he said.

She flipped it over. Small stones under a heavy enamel made up a mosaic depicting a green gem over an inverted white arc.

"Is this the language your people use?" Rouge said disdainfully. "You're still back in the pictogram phase of development?"

"Sort of. Ever heard of heraldry, Rouge?"

She nodded.

"That's mine. That's my personal heraldry. So that's me. Next time you're feeling the pangs of your addiction, maybe... maybe it'll help." His voice lost its authority and firmness as he spoke. He moved towards the door. Awkwardness broke his stride.

Rouge marveled at the token. It portrayed an emerald. It was wondrous that the idea was conveyed so clearly with such a crude technique.

He stopped at the doorway. "You don't have to be alone," he said without looking at her. "Not if you don't want to be."

It was only after he left that she felt how alone she truly was.

* * *

><p>Another sentry was wounded over the course of the day. The others got quick at ducking. Soon they could hear the sound of a bowstring tautening at thirty paces. By that afternoon their perches were framed by arrows.<p>

Tails pulled some of them down and added them to the village's supply. He frowned. "Sonic, look at this arrow. What do you see?"

Sonic took it. "No arrowhead," he said.

"Just like a lot of ours," Tails said. "I think... I think they've made these recently. They're saving their good ones, just like us."

"They must have realized we get our best arrows from them," Sonic said.

"Plus, we left piles and piles of small branches out there," Tails said with alarm. "All the branches we trimmed when we were getting lumber for the fence... I knew we should have burned it all!"

"There wasn't time," Sonic said. "Don't worry about it."

"But they've got practically infinite ammo now!"

"And all the same problems we've been having with our arrows, like zilch for accuracy. They've got the wood, but no feathers."

Tails was about to speak when drums from the Alley cut him off.

Knuckles was in place before his pikemen were, but they didn't dally. Soon, as always, the bottom of the Alley was plugged. Facing them was a group of bandits with shields.

Knuckles sighed. This again? He drew his claymore and waited for the bandits to advance. Soon they'd be trying to hold the peasants in place so they could rain arrows on them...

His eye caught on the arrows as they rose. "Down, down!" he said hurriedly. The peasants all ducked and covered their heads. One of them cried out in pain as an arrow plunged into his arm. He was very lucky. If it hadn't been his arm, it would have been his neck.

Knuckles growled. They'd caught him by surprise by changing tactics. He didn't like that. His only consolation was that, firing blind like this, the bandits' shots were anything but precise. Arrows had fallen all over the end of the Alley.

In his head, the echidna started counting, trying to anticipate the next volley so he could order the pikemen out of the way. Instead, the bandits surprised him again. The bandits with shields stepped out of the way, letting the archers fire directly. "Down!" Knuckles shouted again even as he stepped in front of the pikemen.

The claymore whizzed and whirled. Arrows disintegrated all around him. Knuckles was good, but he couldn't stop all of them. One of the pikemen was slow to hit the ground. He took an arrow in the eye. He flopped to the dirt. His friends went to help him, though they had no idea what they would do.

"Come on!" Knuckles screamed uselessly. The bandits ignored him and drew their bows again.

A much heartier twang came from behind him before they could fire. There was a crack as armor caved in. One of the bandit archers spun to the ground. The others fell back in surprise and fear.

_Good timing_, thought Knuckles. _Not a trade we can keep making, though_. He looked back to the pikemen. "Get the wounded back to the main hall," he said.

"Hideki's dead," said one of the pikemen.

Knuckles winced. He'd known that there'd be no surviving a shot like that. He hadn't wanted to deprive the peasants of that hope. "Clear him out, we'll take care of him later," Knuckles said. He turned back to the bandits. The ones with shields were in front again. They were looking down the Alley opportunistically.

"Back in formation. They're looking for us to show weakness."

The peasants formed up. The bandits saw that and hesitated. Would they or wouldn't they?

Another twang. A bandit caught it on his shield- then screamed so loudly the pikemen stopped to listen to it. He waved his shield arm up and down. He turned enough so that Knuckles could see why- the crossbow bolt had pierced shield and arm alike. The tip of it protruded from the bandit's forearm. The bandits decided, wordlessly and as one, that they weren't doing anything important enough to take more shots like that. They fell back across the road and into the cover of the trees.

"You're a beast, Tails," Knuckles shouted. Tails' disembodied laugh carried from where the fox stayed concealed. Knuckles looked back at the pikemen. "Okay, we're going to work on a new drill today. The idea for this one is you fall back from the bottom of the Alley around the sides of it. If they shoot directly down the Alley again, we'll use this move to clear the Alley but stay close. We'll call it..."

He paused for a moment, unsure if they would find his gesture kind, cruel, or simply melodramatic. "We'll call it Hideki," he said.

They nodded knowingly. Knuckles allowed himself a wry grin. "Okay, so let's set up, then we'll practice it..."

* * *

><p>That evening, the bandits adopted a new tactic. Rouge brought the evidence to the dinner table.<p>

"Flaming arrows," she said. The front of the arrow was charred. Remains of a cloth were bundled near its tip. "The cloth is soaked in sake. Not top-shelf stuff, but good enough for an accelerant. They didn't take the effort to aim them. They rode up to just within range, shot a couple in an arc, and left. They didn't even wait to see where they landed."

"That's insane," said Amy. "Why would they use fire? If the village burns down, the bandits won't have anything to eat, either."

"Yeah, but their leader knows we won't let that happen," said Sonic. "He knows we're not gonna let the village burn just to spite them. It's the peasants' home. They'll do everything they can to keep it. That means fighting fires, however tired it makes us. That bandit leader's a real bastard."

"We've got some leftover lumber," Tails said. The others could seem him doing analysis in his head. "We'll make a couple ladders, spread them around the village. We'll do the same with buckets of water. Rouge and I can keep the place clear until then."

Sonic nodded. "Tails, you're on first shift tonight, anyway. Knuckles is next, then Amy. Try and get some elevation- the top of the main hall should work. That'll let you see the fire archers coming." He waited for everyone to nod in acknowledgement. "And rest whenever you can. The next few days will be rough."

"The past few haven't been?" said Rouge.

"Rough_er_, then."

As the warriors finished eating, Amy managed to lock eyes with Shadow. She'd learned his way of making subtle gestures with his head. She tossed her head- meaning to an outside observer that she tilted it maybe five degrees and moved it the length of a knuckle- towards the door.

To her surprise, Shadow shook his head, though maybe it was just the light. His eyes flicked over to Sonic.

That stymied Amy. That was the trouble with non-verbal communication. Content was an issue. Did that mean that Sonic was stopping them somehow? Did something happen during the fight that she'd missed? Or was he referring to Sonic's direction for them to rest when they could? What she had planned _was_ restful, though. Sort of. Well, they were always restful after, at least.

The only things Amy knew for sure were that she was not going to get laid that night and that, somehow, it was Sonic's fault. She threw herself down onto her mat, pulled the blanket over herself, and gnashed her teeth in aggravation.

* * *

><p>However frustrating Sonic's order might have been, his prediction was quite right. In the hours after dusk, the bandits made three separate fire raids. Most of the arrows fell harmlessly into the streets. Only once did an arrow find a roof. Tails put it out immediately. Despite this it frightened the building's occupants senseless and woke up nearly all the villagers. In that respect, the attack was very successful.<p>

Most of the villagers remembered the days of running water and building codes and household fire extinguishers and on-call fire departments. Having those taken away, and replaced by bucket brigades working from a well, exhumed the fear of fire that lives buried in the human psyche. That their homes were not only flammable, but downright eager to burn, only exaggerated that fear.

Not long ago, a village on the far side of Akemo had been entirely consumed by flames. Rumor had it that bandits were behind it, and the peasants had agreed with that explanation. Behind their eyes, in places that didn't talk to the neighbors, the peasants believed something different. It was all too easy to imagine someone not putting their hearth fire out properly, and for embers to lick up against a wall or over a blanket, reaching a wall, then a roof, a roof of thatch coated in pitch, and spreading from there when the house fell apart, or spreading through the gardens to the neighbors' house, or spread by people running in mindless terror as the fire devoured them...

When you have technology, fire is a pet. When you don't, fire is a barely-controlled monster that is always straining at its leash.

The bandits had chosen their weapon well. Nightmares preyed upon the peasants that night. Those nightmares would never fully be dispelled.

* * *

><p>As the night rolled on, Tails dropped by the warrior hut and shook Knuckles awake. "It's time for us to swap out. I'll give you a few to wake up," Tails said. He departed. Knuckles dragged himself off of his mat, swearing under his breath. He tightened his armor down- he was sleeping in it now- and reached for his claymore.<p>

"You never told me how you know when I'm lying."

Knuckles froze, then chuckled. "Has it been keeping you awake, Rouge?"

Rouge's voice betrayed no hint of sleepiness. "Hardly. I woke up when Tails came in. I always do when someone enters or exits. It's automatic. My paranoia is finely tuned. So 'fess up. We had a bargain."

"We did. You may not like what I say, though. It's... complicated."

"Do your best."

Knuckles' eyes tried to close on him. He fought them open. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"No."

Knuckles took a moment to get his thoughts in order. Fatigue slowed the process. His thoughts seemed to pile into each other and blur together. "When you get right down to it, I think people are fundamentally good. I know," he said, when she opened her mouth to respond, "it seems to go against all the evidence, and it's the opposite of what you believe. Call me naive. Call me a gullible fool. Why, I _know_ it's not true, in my head. My heart believes it, though. You can't fight the heart."

"What does this have to do with me?" said Rouge. Her voice held the slightest hint of quaver, as if part of her was afraid where this was going.

"It means I can see things others miss. Rouge, if I'd known you earlier in your life, I don't think I could have read you. I know you've been a liar and a cheat and a thief for a long time. The habits are there, and they're dug in deep. But... but... there's something else in there."

He paused a moment while he tried to gauge her reaction. It was hopeless. He couldn't see more than an indistinct outline in this darkness. In the silence, though, he should have heard her breathing. The other warriors were louder. He couldn't hear her at all.

"There's something else in there," he repeated. "There's a tiny bit of you that doesn't want to lie or cheat or steal any more. There's a bit of you there that wants to be _good_."

"And you can see it?" she said. Her tone of voice implied that his joke was too absurd to be properly humorous.

"Even the smallest light is easy to see in total darkness."

"Psh. You think I want to be good? I don't even acknowledge that there _is_ such a thing as "good". I look out for me, nothing more, nothing less. You called me a selfish bitch before. You were right. There's nothing more important than looking out for number one."

"And yet here you are."

Her response was delayed- by what, he couldn't tell. "So?" she managed, with audible effort. "I know what's in it for me. You can't see it, that's all."

"If you say so. You asked me how I know when you lie. I told you. Draw your own conclusions." He began to stand.

Tails reappeared in the doorway. "You coming, Knuckles? I really want to head to bed."

"Yeah, I'm coming." He and Tails worked their way down opposite ends of the room. He looked over his shoulder from the doorway. "Sleep well."

"Thanks," said Tails.

Rouge snapped her mouth shut. She'd been about to answer him. Of course, he must have been talking to Tails. Silly of her to think otherwise.

His eyes were invisible. In the moonlight, he seemed to be looking at her. Was that her mind playing tricks on her? She hit him with a quick burst of sonar. No question. His gaze was lingering on her. She blushed despite herself.

He walked into the night, letting the door flap down behind him. Rouge found herself wishing he'd never spoken to her. And, at the same time, wishing he hadn't gone.

* * *

><p><em>Next Time: Very Human<em>


	18. Very Human

Kenji yawned. His mouth opened so wide it was visible around the edges of his hand.

"You're not the only one," Koji said.

"Three days of fire attacks," said Kenji, shaking his head. "All hours of the day and night. They have no decency."

"We knew that. They're bandits, after all."

"It seems a little extreme, even for bandits."

"Nothing's too extreme in a fight to the death. That's what this is, isn't it?"

They mulled the thought over. Their experience in war was distinctly limited, and so their imagination was, too. As it was, though, they couldn't think of anything that should be off-limits if it meant defeating the bandits.

"You know," said Kenji thoughtfully, "animals in the wild don't fight to the death."

"Oh yeah? Don't cats eat mice?"

"I'm not talking about predators and prey, I'm talking about same-species stuff. When two animals of the same species fight for territory, or mates, they only fight until one or the other wins. The loser gets to run away and live."

"Huh."

"Except humans. And humanoids," he added, considering who was helping them in their struggle.

Koji frowned. "Ants fight to the death," he said. "They'll exterminate other ant hives, if they can."

"Well... okay. Except ants."

"Sharks are cannibalistic."

"Fine, except ants and sharks."

"And then there's..."

"Look, the point," Kenji insisted, "is that the vast majority of animals out there only fight long enough to determine dominance, and then call it quits. Humans and humanoids, we fight to the death. Most animals have some built-in surrender mechanism, too, like showing the throat, but we don't. We're supposed to be the smart ones, but we're the strange ones instead. Why is that?"

"We're why," Seiji said.

Kenji and Koji looked to him. "Huh?"

Seiji gestured around him. "The bandits were the bosses, right? But here we are, killing them. We've made things different, and now we're a threat. That's why the bandits have to kill us. That's why humans fight to the death. Animals accept the world. Humans change it."

"You're a genius, Seiji," said Kenji when the thoughts finally finished processing.

Seiji shrugged. "I don't think so," he said.

"You know, some people don't like how we change the world," Koji said. "Hey, Kenji, you remember those back-to-nature groups that were cropping up, right before the Eggman Wars started?"

"Yeah, I remember. What a hoot."

"I wonder if any of them survived actually going back to nature."

"I know I sure didn't want to go back to nature. This is close enough for me. It sucks. I miss technology."

"Me too."

"Air conditioning, for one."

"Yeah. Good ol' AC."

"And electric heating."

"That too."

"And don't even get me started on indoor plumbing."

"Networked computers?"

"Ha! Remember when it made you a weirdo to be off the 'net for more than a day or two? It wasn't that long ago."

"I guess... I guess we never thought about how our entire civilization was so fragile. All our infrastructure was built up to where everything was connected to everything else. So when bits of it started going down, the whole thing came down, like a house of cards."

"So this is rock-bottom, huh?"

They heard bells from the Alley. They grabbed their pikes. For once, as Sonic sped by, he gestured at them. "C'mon, guys, double-time!"

They hurried after him. Their world had fallen far enough. No further.

* * *

><p>Shadow stalked amongst the houses of the village. His eyes were unfocused. He was moving without thinking about it very much. It was the middle of the night, and he was tired.<p>

Every day the warriors woke up before dawn. Every night they were at their posts until after dusk. After that some time was spent training the peasants, more in construction and salvage and repairs, more in fretting and planning and talking, and that was on the days when he wasn't on the night watch. The bandits spoiled their sleep even further with random fire arrows and the occasional feint that forced the village to turn out, then disappeared. It was enough to exhaust even the most stoic of warriors. And still Amy tried to pull him aside each night to their hiding place in the storeroom.

He was no longer certain how he felt about that. He was grateful to her, to be sure. She'd opened his eyes about many things. He appreciated her as his first, and only, friend. For all that, he couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that he was living a lie.

The physical aspect of their relationship seemed so disingenuous. She kept bandying about words like 'love' and 'mate', terms Shadow didn't understand even after she'd tried to define them for him. It all rang false. He couldn't convince himself that she wasn't using him as a proxy Sonic.

A thin beam of light spilled out from the main hall, even at this time of night. The wounded needed tending at all hours. As long as the peasants were skilled with their pikes, the warriors with swords and axes and spears were of little concern. The arrows of the bandit archers, on the other hand, were taking a fearsome toll on the unarmored peasants. Sonic was having to thin out the pikemen along the north and west sides to keep the Alley blocked up. He'd started sending the walking wounded to the sentry stations to free the able-bodied to man the lines.

Shadow considered that for a moment. He and Sonic were eerily similar in species and swordsmanship. In all other categories, their experiences had left them with totally different skill sets. If someone had asked Shadow to captain this defense, he would have been utterly incompetent.

Shadow's powers of internal monologue far outstripped his ability to conduct dialogue. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost missed the choked-off yelp.

Almost.

He covered the ground to southern edge of the village in the blink of an eye. There were four figures there. One bandit was busily trying to toss a sentry station's bell into the floodwaters. Two more were crouching around an obviously-dead sentry.

They looked to be in the midst of some sort of mutilation. At Shadow's arrival, they stood and drew their swords.

Shadow felt scorn surge through him. It broke onto his countenance. He allowed it.

The sentry had been unarmed and unarmored. Killing her would have been no challenge. No skill was required. What was the point?

Cold fury filled him. He felt it as a tingling in his fingers and a buzzing in his ears. It wasn't like the rage that had controlled him when he'd fought Sonic, which had burned hot and fierce. This was a mixture of certainty and contempt.

Shadow always wanted to win his duels, which necessarily meant killing. This time, the focus was different. He wanted to kill these bandits. It was an end unto itself.

"You have no reason to exist," he told the bandits. "I deny you."

The closest bandit raised his sword above his head in preparation to strike.

Battoujutsu was entirely too fast. Shadow's blade sliced through underarm, throat, and underarm in a single smooth arc.

Shadow hated fighting opponents who wore armor. If a blow wasn't lethal, Shadow considered it a waste. He didn't believe in mortal wounds. Armor reduced the number of available kill shots, and so made the duel longer and more frustrating. Unarmored opponents were another matter. These bandits wore only black bodysuits, and those for concealment.

The two remaining bandits watched their ally fall. Shadow could see their thoughts through their eyes. They determined in a moment that they couldn't win against Shadow. They also determined that it was far too late to run away.

They were already defeated.

Shadow took calm, measured steps forward. His sword rested along his side, out of position for any defense. Arrogance and anger fueled his movements.

One bandit struck from the left. The other swung from the right. They left no way for someone to block both attacks. So Shadow blocked neither.

His feet touched ground again in the exact same spot from which he'd jumped. The only difference was that the bandits, having swung strongly and expecting to meet resistance that was never there, were stumbling and off-balance.

It's a much longer distance to get to the human heart through the armpit than, say, through the sternum. Shadow's sword was long enough to make up the difference.

The third bandit dropped his sword. "Don't hurt me!" he babbled. "Please don't, I surrender, I'm sorr-"

He never understood his mistake. Shadow was a hedgehog, but he was made by humans. Humans have no surrender instinct. They fight to the death.

"I have no interest in your words," said Shadow, belatedly. His katana had already nailed the bandit's mouth to his skull.

Shadow withdrew his sword and immediately set about cleaning it. The bandits' outfits were not suitable, as they were soaked through already. They would have had to have been, Shadow considered, since they'd gotten there through the flooded fields. Shadow used the fallen sentry's clothes instead. After getting the highest priority out of the way, he wondered what his next move was. Usually when he killed someone, he simply left. Now, there was nowhere to go.

He decided to lay the bandits' bodies next to one another. They'd burn them in the morning, he reasoned. The sentry he'd return to the main hall. Perhaps someone there would have an idea.

Sonic would know what to do, he was sure. Then again, Sonic had just gone to bed. If there was one person in the village who was more tired than Sonic, Shadow couldn't imagine who it might be. He'd take care of this himself, no matter how strange it was.

* * *

><p>Sonic and Tails stared.<p>

"He means well," Sonic said.

"Yeah."

Shadow had told them he'd stacked the bodies of the dead bandits to make them easier to move. This was true, more or less. He was still Shadow, though, and Shadow's aesthetics were less than civilized.

He'd stacked the bodies with partial overlap, and they alternated whether they were head-first or feet-first. He'd made no effort to hide the wounds which had killed them or the blood that now stained their flesh.

"It looks like modern art," said Tails.

Sonic had to agree with that. "They told me that when he brought the body of the sentry in, he made everyone think she was still alive. He was doing an over-the-shoulder carry, see? The sentry was killed by slitting her throat, and the throat wasn't visible like that. So when the villagers rushed up to help the sentry..."

"It turned out she'd been dead all along," Tails said. "It's almost funny."

"It's a little funny."

"A little," Tails acceded.

"He didn't do it on purpose. It wasn't a joke for him."

"Of course not."

"I'd still rather have him on our team."

"Me too."

Sonic opened his mouth to say something about Amy's preferences, but stopped himself. There was no point to it. "You know, this is the first woman to get killed."

"I hadn't noticed. You're right, though."

"They were trying to gouge out her eyes."

"Ah. The old mutilate-and-intimidate bit?"

"That one. It doesn't work as well when the culprits get bumped off, though."

"Nope. It might even backfire."

Sonic scratched his head. "We'll need someone to take her sentry spot. C'mon."

The buzz of conversation was much louder than usual this morning inside the main hall. It almost died out when Sonic entered, then picked back up some, but this time with all eyes focused on the hedgehog.

"Is it always like this?" whispered Tails.

"Sometimes," Sonic answered. "Ichiro! I need to talk to you."

The administrator shuffled up to them. "Yes, sir?"

"I need a body for one of the southern sentry posts. Night shift."

"I don't have any to give."

Ichiro had Sonic's undivided attention now. "Don't have any?"

"That's right," said Ichiro nervously. "Everyone who's able is already tasked out. We're even out of women. The only women left are the ones with young children. I mean, think about it! We're manning all the sentry stations in two shifts- you wanted three, remember, but I told you that was completely impossible- while still providing pike details for the Alley, north, and west, plus reserves, plus archers on top of that and fire watches on top of that. We've had three... sorry, four deaths and a double handful of injuries. We're maxed out. This isn't a large village," Ichiro admonished.

Sonic's eyes narrowed. "That's not good enough," he said. "You don't get bonus points for saying 'I did my best'. You have to make it work or we're all dead." His expression brightened. "Actually, I have a great idea. Everyone's employed, right? Every single peasant has a job?"

"That's correct," said Ichiro. He glanced around as if looking for an escape route. He sensed he wasn't going to like where this was going.

"Then you're out of a job," Sonic said cheerily. "If we have no one left to give tasks to, we don't need a taskmaster. So congratulations! You're on the southeast corner sentry position, night shift."

All color drained from Ichiro's face. "M-m-me in a s-s-sentry position?"

"You'll be perfect," said Sonic, and although his voice was cheery, his face was hard-set.

"Sir?"

One of the other peasants staggered to his feet. His left arm was in a sling and bandaged heavily. His eyes, though, were bright and active. "Sir Sonic, I'm not hurt badly. I can't hold a pike, but there's nothing wrong with my eyes. I can take a sentry post. The other sentry will have to help me up, that's all."

"No, he's too badly hurt," said another peasant. He was pushing himself to his feet with the help of a wall, because his leg was in a splint. "I'll be fine. I can do it. Send me instead."

In moments every peasant in the room was professing some variation on the theme, even a peasant who was lying face-down because his back had been laid open. The clamor was deafening and the atmosphere electric. Sonic had to raise his hands and wait to restore order.

"You," he said, pointing to the peasant with the wounded arm, "you'll take sentry duty tonight on the southeast corner."

"Thank you, sir!"

"Ichiro, find out which of the wounded are fit enough for other duties."

"Of course, sir," Ichiro said with vast relief.

"The rest of you, concentrate on getting better," Sonic said. "We may need you yet. We'll need all your enthusiasm then. But for now, get healthy!"

They made noises of assent. Sonic left with a bewildered Tails on his heels. "What happened there?" said Tails. "I've never seen wounded soldiers that eager to fight, let alone peasants."

"Didn't you feel it?" Sonic asked.

"Feel what?"

"The anger."

Tails considered it. Now that Sonic had pointed it out, there had been an edge to the peasants, a subtle but irresistible urgency. The undercurrent of emotion in that room had been wrathful.

"I suppose so, but why?"

"That woman who was killed? Her name was Kasumi. She'd been talking for almost a moon now about her kids' birthdays coming up. Her son is ten and her daughter eleven, and she was lucky enough that they were born on the same day. She didn't give a hoot about the bandits one way or another. She just wanted to celebrate her children."

Tails shivered. "How do you know all this?"

"I talk to people."

"Your memory's never been that good. It took you two years to remember _my_ birthday!"

Sonic grinned sheepishly. "Okay, I'm sorry about that. The point, though, is that harmless, friendly Kasumi got murdered in the dead of night, and the bandits were going to take her eyes."

Tails shook his head. "But Shadow stopped them and killed them. So instead of it scaring the peasants, it just made 'em angry."

"And it means the bandit leader's not that smart, after all. The peasants have known all along that this was gonna go to the death. It's harder to scare people like that. But he threw away three of his guys trying."

"Plus, there's you," Tails said.

"Huh?"

"People don't get scared when you're there."

Sonic seemed surprised by that. "You think so?"

"I've been in all your major fights. I know so."

"Really." Sonic scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, even if they got scared, it wouldn't be for much longer."

"We have killed a bunch of the bandits."

"It's not that. How much food do you figure they've got left?"

Tails was taken aback. "I don't know. Let me think... nah, there's no way to tell. We don't know how much they were able to salvage from the fire."

"If you think about it, though, they _can't_ have much left," Sonic said. "Rouge didn't see any building like a smokehouse or icehouse. They must do some hunting in the winter to get meat into their diet. Well, they're not hunting now. And as hot as those fires burned there's no way much of their rice survived."

"Plus," Tails said as his mind settled in to thinking in this way, "they've been coming after us every day, and their hideout is far away. Going there, getting food, coming back- that's an all day commitment for whomever they send. We know from getting hit they can't be sending many."

"Which means they're running low on food," Sonic concluded. "They'll have to make a major play soon. Even if it doesn't work and a bunch of bandits die, at least that leaves fewer mouths to feed."

Tails shivered. "You're scary when you're thinking like a bad guy, Sonic."

"Heh. I've heard that before. If I didn't know how bad guys think, we'd never have survived the Eggman Wars."

"It's still scary."

"I don't have to reassure _you_ that I'm the good guy, do I?"

"No, no, of course not," Tails hastened to say. "It's just... scary, is all."

Sonic shrugged. "So's life. C'mon, let's get the bodies burned."

* * *

><p>The day passed under a mist that never really burned off. The sun wasn't strong enough to dispel it now, and the day was overcast above that. It was hard for people to convince themselves that day came and went. Combined with the universal lack of sleep, it made everything seem hazy and dreamlike.<p>

The bandits contributed to that, too. They made several fire raids, as was the usual pattern now. On several occasions they seemed to be gathering for an attack, but melted away without provocation. Tails watched them carefully through Betsy, and even picked one off, though it cost him a bolt he doubted he'd ever get back.

Tails was sleepy, too, which was unfortunate for the village. If he hadn't been as tired, he might have noticed something about the bandits that would have leapt out at him were he rested.

All of the villagers were in that sort of haze. The day didn't require them to do anything they didn't already know how to do. They knew how to fight the fire raids. They rallied and formed and relaxed as threats came without having to think about it; it was all in muscle memory now. No actual battle came, so the greater emotions spurred by conflict never came up. The day was as flat and uninteresting as day-old beer.

On previous days without attacks, the peasants had felt build-ups of tension as they waited to fight. Not this time. Everything was too surreal and they were all too numb. Even the shock of Kasumi's death wore away quickly. Death was no longer novel. The attempted mutilation made them angry, but without any sort of focus or outlet, the anger fizzled out.

So the day passed. Since the sun's light never penetrated the clouds, they only could tell when the gray got darker.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Buckled Under<em>


	19. Buckled Under

"Up and at 'em, Knuckles," said Tails.

Knuckles grumped. A dream had come upon him that night, a dream that seemed equal parts fantasy and memory. It was a dream of flame and terror, of destruction and loss, and yet it held a fascination for Knuckles. More than anything, he wished he could go back there. There was something there that had been left behind, something he needed...

The thoughts slipped silently out of his head. He felt tremendous disappointment and couldn't remember why.

He gathered himself and rose. "See anything out there?" he asked Tails in whisper.

"Quiet as a tomb," Tails answered. "Something's been bugging me, though."

"Huh." Knuckles didn't yet have the capacity to engage in more conversation than that. Instead he tightened down his armor and reached for his claymore, actions he could do by rote.

"Have you ever felt something tickling at the edge of your brain? Some idea that you know you're having, but don't know what it is?"

"Yeah." _Not unlike my dream_, Knuckles thought blearily.

"Something about the bandits today... it's really bothering me, now. I hope I'll be able to sleep."

"Me too." Knuckles rubbed a hand over his face to try and wipe the sleepiness away. "Anything else?"

"Nah, that's it."

Knuckles nodded. "Alright. Catch some downtime." He walked past Tails out into the night. The clouds hadn't cleared away, so the night was deep and dark, broken up only by the sentries' torches.

Tails lay down on his mat.

"Noisy bums," Rouge muttered.

"Indeed," agreed Shadow.

"Sorry, sheesh," said Tails. He turned away from them in a huff.

The sense that he was missing something teased him again. It was maddening! It was there, just beyond his reach...

* * *

><p>Knuckles passed through the village. He liked to start the night with a round of all the sentry stations. He'd be sure to stop and talk to a couple of them. After that he'd jog through the center of the village, check to make sure all the weapons were in place and accessible, then make another round.<p>

It was normal, after a fashion. He'd be able to stay awake for it. Then he'd get Amy awake and try to snag a bit of sleep before morning. Anything was better than nothing, though, as all parents know, fewer hours with fewer interruptions are more restful than more hours with more interruptions.

Knuckles had spent his fair share of nights interrupted by guard duties, once upon a time. It had been fashionable, or at least customary, to complain about it. Knuckles used to pride himself on not doing so. Instead he focused on staying awake. Never had his instructors caught him drifting off.

There is a method to staying conscious when your body demands you sleep and you lack chemical stimulants. Knuckles knew this well. Keeping in motion helps, but is not the total answer. Obviously tempting yourself with thoughts that begin "I'll be alright if I just..." or "It'll only be for a moment..." is out of the question. The real trick is to find a way to stimulate the brain, to keep the mind engaged. Conversation works every time. That was one reason why he was making sure to stop by the sentries.

_Keep the mind active_, he thought to himself. _That'll keep me awake_...

* * *

><p>Tails balled his hand into a fist. Tired as he was, so long as his mind was disturbed with this puzzle, he'd never be able to sleep.<p>

He gathered himself into a sitting position. His intuition had spotted something important, something his conscious mind had missed. What had he done today? Maybe if he pored over everything that had happened, he could find something... anything.

Tails' memory was quite good. It needed to be, since he did most of his design work in his head before anything reached paper. When he reviewed the day's events, it was with uncommon clarity and detail.

There had to be something...

* * *

><p>The normal sounds of nightlife were absent along the village perimeter. The keenest of ears might have picked up animal breathing.<p>

* * *

><p>Tails frowned despite having closed eyes. One, two, three, four, five. He conjured up another memory like comparing two photographs. One, two, three, four, five... <em>the same five.<em>

Knuckles had to know about this.

Tails rose and, after a moment's hesitation, grabbed for Betsy. He wasn't sure what this revelation meant, and uncertainty made him nervous. Having Betsy eased the nerves, no matter how illogical that was. Now to find Knuckles...

* * *

><p>They'd been given plenty of time to get into position. They waited only for the signal.<p>

* * *

><p>Knuckles walked across the base of the Alley. One conversation in, his appetite for it had vanished. His thoughts kept drifting back to another time, another place. He'd been on the defensive there, too. He'd known something was coming, even though he wasn't sure what or when. When it had come, of course, it left nothing standing. And now there was only one left. Just one.<p>

Only Knuckles was left alive, to be tormented by the completeness of his failure.

Why were these thoughts coming upon him now? It had been fourteen years since that had happened. It had been a while since he'd dwelt on the subject. At first it had dominated his thoughts, but over time it had receded. This resurgence seemed ominous. He didn't want to fail like that again. Never again...

* * *

><p>The sentry was struggling mightily to stay awake. His alertness changed in an instant. As often as the bandits had stalked the sentries, the sound of a bowstring straining would have awoken them from a dead sleep. The sentry ducked. The arrow hit the fence with a thunk.<p>

Next to the bandit archer, a torch flared into life.

Another torch lit up further down the tree line.

Another, even further.

The tree line began to rustle, shift, and extrude.

The sentry considered poking his head up again. An arrow went whistling over his head and he thought better of it.

When the bandits emerged from the cover of the trees, the sentry who would have reported them first wasn't even looking.

* * *

><p>"Knuckles!" The echidna turned his head. Tails was jogging towards him, agitation on his face.<p>

"You should be long-since asleep," Knuckles chided. "We all need to rest when we can, in case the bandits hit us at night."

"I wanted to talk to you about..." Tails' voice trailed off as his jaw dropped. He slid to a stop and raised Betsy in a single motion.

Knuckles dropped instinctively. His hand gripped his claymore. Tails' shot flew over Knuckles' shoulder. Confusion reigned for a split second- then Knuckles heard the crack as the bolt punched through metal.

He whirled around.

Bandits were thundering down the Alley. One of them fell with a bolt in his chest. He disappeared beneath the tide.

_The city was burning, and Knuckles was helpless. He'd already expended every weapon at his disposal. All he had left was his armor- half his armor- and his sword. A sword! He'd been so proud of his skill with the blade, but the flying robots and airships and bombers overhead were not impressed._

Knuckles drew his claymore with a roar and charged towards the bandit line.

When they'd been training, Knuckles had drilled into the peasants the need to be able to get to their weapons and plug the Alley quickly. This was exactly the reason why. At their best, the peasants had been able to fill the entrance with pikes before Knuckles could run the length of the Alley. Of course, that was starting with everyone awake, and knowing it was coming, and not having endured day after day and night after night of false alarms.

Knuckles' mind quickly corrected his estimate for how long the peasants would need to plug the Alley. Long. Far, far too long.

There was only one solution. He was already seeing a red haze around the edges of his vision.

_The city was burning... they were all dead... he had failed... failed!..._

Finally bells started ringing. Someone other than Knuckles and Tails had noticed. Good, but it meant that the time the peasants would need to rally had only just started. More time Knuckles had to somehow buy.

Time? No, he wasn't playing for time, now. He just wanted to drag as many of them to hell with him as he could. His mind and body were flying apart. His body moved towards the bandits. His mind moved backwards into the past.

_He was Captain of the Guard. He existed only to protect this place, and now it was a crematorium. Why hadn't he died, too? He should have died! It was too cruel, to survive like this. There was no point, any more, nothing to gain or prove, no reason to go on..._

Knuckles planted his legs wide and, with the claymore cocked behind him, slammed his left fist into the ground. His knuckle-barbs drove into the dirt. "This far, no farther!" he cried. The bandit wave gave no sign of stopping- no sign, even, that it had heard.

This was it, then. You couldn't stand against the tide. You flowed with it, or it shattered you. If shattering meant slowing it even a fraction, then it might be worth it. Who was he kidding? Of course it was worth it. He wasn't really alive. Killing his body was a trivial thing.

He'd make his stand here, come what may.

The bandits surged towards him, weapons prepped, sheer momentum making their blows unstoppable.

_Everything he cared about was reduced to ash. He was alone... so alone... alone with nothing but his pain and failure... yet he kept on living, for no reason... time to finish what had begun fourteen years ago. Time to close that chapter of history. It would be easy, too. And long-awaited._

This was it...

_I NEED YOU ALIVE!_

Rouge's voice pierced through the haze that clouded his sight. It shattered the burning city-scape, ricocheted off of his long-dormant survival instinct, and careened into his very surprised conscious mind, which had been content to sit this one out.

He blinked, and saw the bandits approaching as if for the first time. Bandit weapons were already arcing towards him.

The claymore split the air. It chopped through a spear like it was an overgrown carrot. It hit a rapier so hard the lesser blade went spinning from its owner's hand.

Two more attacks came lancing in at the echidna, but he was no longer there.

He danced to the side and swung again in a horizontal arc. Two bandits tried to stop, but were pushed forward by the surge of the bandits behind and around them. They were pushed right into the killing zone of the claymore. The mob trampled the corpses, reducing them to mere speed bumps.

More retaliatory strikes came in. Knuckles had already retreated. His attacks and withdrawals were occurring simultaneously.

The bandits had never seen anything like this. This was the skill that had helped Knuckles, back when he was keeping track, to win twenty-two consecutive placement duels and countless unofficial ones. His strength was monstrous and his balance would shame a cat. This allowed him to swing a massive sword that outranged almost any weapon that could be fielded against him, and yet have total control of his movement independent of the weapon's swing. Knuckles had absolute command of the range of battle.

Knuckles spun again. The moment his claymore cleared its prescribed swing, Knuckles was already far enough away that a counterattack was impossible.

The wave began to break.

The two bandits that had been disarmed in the first attack wanted to retreat. The forward rush of bandits made it impossible. They were jostled and tossed about and kept going down the Alley. They slowed those around them, though, and so slowed the tide.

Another spin... and another... a bandit died, another lost his weapon. The bandits were getting close to the end of the Alley now, but they were slowing down because no one wanted to chance the claymore's death zone. The wave's momentum was bleeding off.

Knuckles' energy was bleeding off, too. This technique used every muscle in the echidna's body. It was never intended to be used continuously. It was draining his strength and making him dizzy. As taxing as it was, he couldn't stop now. Stopping meant death. He'd never have an open window to shift to more conventional tactics; any pause would find eight weapons tearing into his flesh. He needed to hold on just a little longer. He needed to LIVE!

Another few seconds...

He spun again, this time with a deceptively high arc that crashed down onto a bandit that tried to cheat in on him.

They were creeping around him, too. The wave continued on. He couldn't occupy the whole of the Alley. They'd surround him soon, and then it would end. The claymore's arc wasn't really a circle, it didn't occupy all points around him all the time. His defense had gaps, gaps the bandits would find no matter how fast he spun. He incorporated leftward steps into his spinning, pinching off a bandit that was sneaking past. That just allowed two to get past on his right.

His muscles burned. He ignored them and spun again.

How long had it been?

A sword clanged against his armor. The echidna-mail was far too strong for feeble attacks like that. The bandit blade slid off with Knuckles' next spin. A speartip caught in between pieces of the mosaic. When Knuckles moved again, it snapped, even taking some of the shaft with it. His luck was holding. His luck was doomed.

Knuckles moved back into the center of the Alley. One bandit was fully behind him. The bandit yielded as Knuckles pressured him, but kept Knuckles' field of motion limited. That was it, then. The bandits would slow down enough to deal with him, then continue on. He had succeeded, sort of.

More of them filled in on the sides. Knuckles was just one echidna. He couldn't fight them all, even if he could make them pay dearly. A bandit lost a leg, an axe disintegrated before him, and he was still going to die.

A cask of some kind hurtled over his head. A torch followed immediately after.

Flame burst into life amidst the bandits.

This divided the bandits and broke the last of the wave's momentum. The back half of the bandit force stopped to avoid charging into the flames, leaving their allies unsupported.

Knuckles might have noticed this more had not a spear that very moment perforated his abdomen.

Knuckles' spinning came to an abrupt halt. Between the gut shot and the sudden nausea as dizziness took its toll, it took all Knuckles' control not to throw up. He claimed the bandit's hand in exchange for the abdomen wound, then fell. There was more pain and shock and damage than he could possibly have imagined. The spear remained in his belly.

Knuckles had an unusually high tolerance for pain. That was the only reason he wasn't thrashing around and tearing himself even further open. As it was, he couldn't control any of his other muscles. He couldn't feel them. That whole part of his brain was blocked out by agony.

It was surprising, he thought idly. Weren't tough guys supposed to be able to take wounds and keep on fighting? But the moment the spear punctured him, his strength had abandoned him. Then again, he'd seen his enemies fall the first time his claymore had torn into them, even when he knew it wasn't a lethal blow. Weapons were designed to kill and disable. Pretending that they didn't work on good guys was pure fantasy.

He closed his eyes and waited for the kill shot.

Instead, he heard shouts of surprise and pain, the clang of steel against steel, the thuds of pikes on armor and the squish of pikes into flesh. He didn't open his eyes, though light and dark flashed alternately across his eyelids. He was stepped on a few times. Then dark took more of a hold as the largest flames went out. Still he didn't look.

He needed to concentrate all his faculties on living.

How strange... how wonderful. He'd thought his life worthless. Now that it was leaking out of him, he found he was awfully attached to it.

Damn that Rouge. She made everything complicated.

The sounds of battle became more distant, then began to fade out entirely. There was a pause, then- nearby- the twang of a crossbow and a faraway crack. Knuckles waited. He hadn't the strength or desire to move. Help would come. Or the peasants would lose and they'd all die and he'd have no say in the matter. Either way, there wasn't any point in moving.

It hurt so much!

The sounds of battle had been gone for a bit now. Cloth rustled and sandals flapped around him. The moaning of the wounded and dieing began in earnest. Knuckles did not contribute. His pain was his own business.

He heard feet shuffling up to him. "Hey, Knux. You dead?"

"Not yet," Knuckles managed. Talking hurt.

"Oh good. We'll get you out of here, then. You were magnificent, by the way."

"Thanks, Sonic."

"You held them, Captain of the Guard."

Knuckles inhaled quickly. That made him cough, which hurt everywhere. "Never call me that, Knight of the Wind," he shot back.

"We are what we are."

Knuckles sighed. "Maybe. We... won, then?"

"Yeah. We started our counterattack right as you went down. Tails split 'em up with some sake and a torch- risky move, it could have burned down the whole village- and we charged 'em. They'd just broken past you, so they were out of the Alley- it took all of us together to push 'em back in. It was the worst fighting yet, the hardest by far. We... three more peasants went down, plus you."

It was too hard to try and nod. "We need to get them to the main hall for treatment."

"We'll take you back to the warrior's place. You're one of ours, we'll take care of you."

Belonging. He belonged. He wasn't alone. It made Knuckles want to cry.

He could almost hear Sonic frown. "Where did Rouge get off to?"

At that moment, they heard the shouting. It was enough to make Knuckles open his eyes.

"Sir Sonic! Sir Sonic! It's Rouge!"

* * *

><p>That was Knuckles' voice.<p>

Rouge was awake instantly. She'd heard Knuckles make that sound once before- when he was charging at the bandits after the warriors' night raid. She glanced around. Shadow was coming awake, same as she was; Tails was gone, and Knuckles; Amy and Sonic were asleep still.

If Shadow was waking up, she hadn't imagined it. She rose to her feet. "Hey, everyone up!" she said.

The bells came in a moment later. There was very nearly a jam in the door as the warriors raced out.

Sonic and Shadow blew past her, predictably; even Amy shot for the Alley. It gave Rouge pause. The Alley would be awfully crowded, then. Was anyone thinking about anywhere else?

Rouge flew to the top of the warriors' building and looked around. Sight was the only sense she had to work with. It was impossible to hear anything over the clamor in the Alley. Her sonar was short-ranged and highly directional; she never even considered it. Her eyes, though, were keen, and accustomed to working in the dark. She turned this way and that, surveying all the village for any signs of trouble.

She found some.

There, in the west, she could see swords and axes chopping at a cross-bar in the fence. They were trying to make a new opening into the village.

Rouge hopped back down to ground level just as a sentry in the west started ringing his bell. Several pikemen stopped in their tracks. They were obviously torn between rushing to the Alley and to this new threat.

"Come with me," Rouge commanded. They responded to the authority in her voice. As they ran for the fence, Rouge reached to her foot, for what appeared to the peasants to be bootlaces. Then again, why would one boot have laces and not the other? She grabbed at the tip of the laces and tore upwards. Something came free, something that glimmered thinly in the torchlight.

"I'll try to knock them into the fence," Rouge said over her shoulder. "Stay ready with those pikes!"

Without further explanation, she launched herself into the air.

The bandits saw the peasant pikemen coming. They stopped their excavation work and backed off as the peasants approached.

None of them looked up. So they never saw Rouge coming.

She landed behind one of the bandits. As she came down, she delicately draped a loop of wire around the bandit's neck.

She yanked outwards with both hands. The garrote constricted.

All of Rouge's strength was concentrated onto the very thin piece of wire. It slipped through flesh, through fat, through blood vessels and trachea alike. Only the bone of the spinal column stopped it.

Rouge let the bandit flop to the ground. His comrades looked at her with a mix of horror and outrage. "Come on, boys," she said with an alluring smile and a come-hither gesture. "Dance with me."

They roared after her. She began to strafe from side to side.

In a slugfest, she didn't have a prayer. She wore no meaningful armor, and her hollow bones were a liability outside of flight. So she never let it become a slugfest. Her defense was to not get hit.

The bandits were coming in a line abreast. By the time they got close to Rouge, she'd slid over to where only one of them actually had an attack on her. She dodged around it, returned a shallow stab to the back with a boot blade, and then flitted away like a hummingbird.

This was how she had to fight. Her weapons, so tastefully concealed and lethal to soft targets, would struggle mightily against armored opponents. So she made the most of her preternatural agility. She only ever faced the bandits one-on-one or two-on-one at most. She never over-committed to an attack. She bloodied them here or there when a shot presented itself and waited for them to make mistakes.

They probably never thought twice about how her mouth was open. The same acute senses that allow a normal bat to snatch a flying insect out of midair helped Rouge make the bandits' attacks look like buffoonery. Her movements didn't have the blinding quickness of Sonic or Shadow. Instead they were very efficient, to the point of elegance, making the bandits seem that much more foolish. She could sustain a battle like this indefinitely.

One of the bandits, bleeding from two places already, stumbled when his blow against Rouge whiffed. She raked claws across his face, hitting both eyes in the process. He dropped his weapon and, while he was preoccupied, she used a boot blade to sever his Achilles' tendon for good measure.

"Just so you know, there's only one chair," Rouge taunted the remaining three. "Where will you be when the music stops?"

They hesitated, and she darted between them. The third bandit, though gripped with surprise, raised his weapon to guard his face. Instead she put her whole body in service of a kick. The bandit stumbled backwards towards the fence- and met a pike lancing out in the opposite direction. The tip of the pike leapt out from his stomach, having already come all the way through his body. The bandit went limp.

Rouge nipped out from between the two other bandits just in time to hear the robot coming.

The silver man jetted out from the tree line. It wasn't hovering far above the ground, but it was enough to ignore any terrain that might have slowed it down. At some point it had destroyed the spear the bandits had given it before. Now it was equipped with a halberd.

The bandits felt a moment of relief at its approach. It had been promised far earlier, but the night attack had fouled up the coordination. Now, though, their confidence was renewed.

With reason. Rouge reviewed her weapons inventory in a flash. Nothing in her arsenal could inflict more than casual damage against something like that.

She drifted backwards, eluding a couple more bandit attacks along the way, towards the fence. "Hey!" she shouted to the pikemen. "You got anything that can hurt a robot?"

"What do you think?" said the pikemen miserably.

The bandits laughed grimly. "Say your prayers now, wench," said one of them. "We won't be gentle when we finally catch you."

It took Rouge a moment to make her decision. Self-preservation told her to flee. Logic agreed. This was not the sort of foe she was equipped the fight. Better to slip away to fight another day.

She overrode both logic and self-preservation. This was where she'd promised to be, doing what she'd promised to do. She would not be shown up by Knuckles. Instead she tossed her head arrogantly. "That robot is more a man than you," she said. "Allow me to demonstrate."

She stood with the two bandits ahead of her, the fence on her left, and the silver man screaming towards her on her right. Bravado or no, the bandits were keeping their distance. They were content to let the robot force the issue.

Rouge waited. She turned her head towards the silver man with her mouth open. She kept her eyes on the bandits. This would take very precise movements...

The silver man swung horizontally. She leapt up over its weapon. Her feet touched briefly on the robot's arm, and then she was in the air again, sailing over the lead bandit and pulling a somersault as she went. She tucked her legs under her and planted a shin on either side of the second bandit's head. The sudden weight caused him to stagger backwards; Rouge's body blocked his vision. Rouge twisted to the side and tumbled. The bandit tumbled, as well, but all the twisting happened above his shoulders. It was as if the bandit's body was the bottle, his head was the cap, and Rouge was the hand unscrewing the cap. There wasn't a single crack. Instead there was a series of cracks that blended into each other as the bandit's neck disintegrated.

Rouge rolled to her feet. The remaining bandit faced her, mouth agape in terror. She gave an evil smile and wagged a finger at him. Puzzlement came over his features- for a moment, until the silver man swung its halberd at Rouge. The stave of the weapon floored the bandit in the process.

Rouge flitted backwards, rolled to the side, and dashed in an arc. It was all pointless. It delayed the robot catching her from moment to moment. It did nothing to help her attack.

She hated fighting without attacking.

_Back to basics_, she thought. How do you take down an unequal opponent? Deny its advantages. Degrade its ability to fight. Exploit any vulnerability. If no vulnerability exists, create one. She'd been trained on axioms like that long ago. Some people had memorized them, and the contents of the books in which they appeared. She hadn't. The words had no value in and of themselves. They existed, and were taught, to spark creativity- the deadliest form of creativity.

She reached into the oversized cuff of her right glove and drew a kunai dagger. The next time the robot swung at her, she twirled around the tip of the halberd and flung the kunai back at the robot. It pierced one of the robot's eyes and stuck. Rouge grinned to herself. It could still see, but it had a large blind spot now. Plenty of room for her to work with.

She sidled into the robot's blind spot. It spun in place using vectored thrust from its hover jets- a much quicker process than if it had to turn normally. The difference caught Rouge by surprise. She was still able to avoid its next attack, but the margin was a lot closer than it needed to be.

One hit, she knew, would be enough for it to obliterate her. It could fight forever, whereas she had already been fighting for a while and would only get weaker. She still had no way to retaliate. She had another kunai, she could blind it completely- but what good would that do? At that point it would probably turn and smash its way into the village, come what may.

It had other sensors, too, if memory served. Her brain whizzed along as she deftly avoided the next series of attacks. It had hearing, yes, no to smell, and only a limited sense of touch. Apart from its hands, it only "felt" things depending upon how they upset its balance.

There might be something there.

Rouge cartwheeled to the side and spotted the first bandit she'd killed. A pirouette and a flip later and she'd retrieved her garrote.

The robot didn't swing at her this time. Instead it barreled forward. With its mass, it would have won a head-on collision with a bull. Rouge had to dive out of the way. The robot's hover jets turned in opposite directions; the silver man pivoted on the spot, bringing its weapon around far too quickly for Rouge to avoid completely.

The halberd's spear tip tore open the belly of Rouge's bodysuit and left a shallow line of pink across her abdomen. There was barely enough pain to feel. Rouge scoffed indignantly. "They don't make these suits anymore!" she protested. The robot ignored her and swung again. She slid left, favoring its blind spot again. It charged once more. This time, ready for it, Rouge launched herself into the air.

She came down too far behind it to strike. The silver man pivoted again for another swing. Rouge knew it was coming before the weapon moved, and she was gone before it arrived. _So predictable_, she thought. _I know how it reacts now. I can play it like a human_.

She let it attack a few more times to nail down its patterns. When she was ready, she guided it around until her back was close by the fence. The robot calculated the perfect attack and swung the halberd at the perfect height. If she ducked, it would behead her. If she jumped, it would cut her legs out from under her. She couldn't move backwards or forwards to evade.

It didn't realize that Rouge wasn't boxed in. She was right where she wanted to be.

Even before the silver man's swing began, Rouge was in motion. She leapt up and backwards. When her feet came in contact with the fence, she pushed off into a new leap that would have been impossible for anyone with a human physique.

She twisted and spun in the air, and when she came down, her garrote was in a half-circle around the robot's "neck". She clamped her legs around its torso to anchor her in place and pulled backwards.

When she'd done moves like this to normal men, it had caused a blood choke, either compressing or severing the arteries in the neck. The robot had no arteries, to be sure, but surely there was something in its neck that would be vulnerable- a hydraulic line, a power cord, an A/V cable, anything.

All of it was too well protected. Even with all her weight and strength, she couldn't force the wire through the silver man's armor. Instead she had to relax her pull, lest she cause the wire to snap. The robot reached over its shoulder with an arm and groped for her. She shrieked in surprise; only a quick shift allowed her to avoid it. The motion altered the robot's center of balance. It felt her on its back in this way, and reached again. There was a banging noise as the hand stopped a hair's breadth away from her face.

Rouge had the proverbial tiger by the tail. If she let go, it would spin around and destroy her. Staying here was accomplishing nothing, though-

Her thoughts fled her as another percussive bang split the air. She hadn't noticed it before, what with the robot's arm trying to snag her- what was that?

It reached for her again; she swung ever-so-slightly to avoid it; another bang. Rouge saw. The robot's arm was knocking against its own head as it grasped at her. Not hard enough to do any damage... and Rouge found her solution.

She dodged another swipe from the silver man and stuffed one of the garrote handles into her teeth to keep it secure. With her now-free hand, she retrieved her last kunai dagger.

The robot swung again. Its hand was close enough to Rouge's face that it cleaved one of her eyelashes.

When its hand retracted, Rouge planted the kunai tip-down on its head.

Bang! The robot swung again. Its reach was marginally impaired on that attempt.

Bang! Closer.

Bang! Close enough that Rouge gasped through her teeth. She released the kunai and grabbed the garrote again.

Bang! Only a last-moment shift by Rouge kept her safe.

Bang! Her garrote was pulling apart. The wire was starting to escape from the handles. It hadn't been built for abuse of this nature.

Bang! The robot's motion kicked up enough air pressure that Rouge felt it like a shove. A direct hit would crush her.

Bang! This time, the robot's hand stayed in place.

Rouge heard a bang, but it was an illusion constructed by her expectations. The robot still hadn't moved. Nor would it, ever again.

The silver man, twenty years after its construction, had met its match.

The robot had no sense of touch except for its hands. So it never felt the kunai on its head, and never felt how its own arm drove the kunai down like a hammer drives a nail.

Gingerly, as if afraid it might whirl into action anew, Rouge climbed down from the silver man's back. Its hover jets died from lack of direction. It settled gently onto the ground, and swayed a bit, as its balance was precarious without control.

She indulged in a smile. She'd destroyed the robot, all by herself, without any weapons that should have been able to hurt it, along with its escort of five-

She looked around. Only four bodies were on the ground.

That's when the sword pierced her back, clipping her left wing in the process.

It withdrew. She fell to the ground, her world a cornucopia of pain.

Of course. There was one bandit she hadn't ensured was dead or incapacitated- the one that had been smacked by the robot's halberd. It hadn't been a lethal wound, and in all of the excitement, she'd lost track of him.

She had in her mind a clear picture of what needed to be done. She forced her eyes open, found the spot she was looking for, and started scraping at the dirt with her one good hand.

"That's right, get used to groveling," sneered the bandit. "I'm not gonna kill you. After tonight, you've earned far worse than that. I'm gonna take you back to our camp instead."

Rouge looked back at him, though her hand kept moving. He was holding an arm across his chest- broken rib, perhaps. "Why?" she grunted. It was all she could manage through the pain.

"Why do you think?" the bandit said with a leer. He put two fingers on the flat of his sword and sawed it back and forth between them. "It's what all the women of the village are gonna get, soon enough, before we kill 'em. But you've caused us extra trouble. So you're gonna get extra special treatment."

"Fat chance," she growled.

He snickered. He took a step forward so that he loomed over her. "Ya know, my old country used to use women soldiers," he said. He held out his sword and used it to trace the outline of her leg. "Ya wanna know why they stopped? 'Cause the other countries didn't like fighting women, see. Or rather, they didn't like the women fighting. The women soldiers didn't get taken prisoner the way the men did. The men were sent to camps. The women got the shit raped out of them. So come along, wench. It's time to get used."

One last handful. It took inordinate effort, but Rouge scooped away one more handful of dirt. "No one..." she reached up towards the robot's pelvis, "...gives me orders."

It only took a small push.

The bandit's vulgar reply died unsaid. His face became a mask of horror. Because the silver man began to teeter backwards- and didn't stop.

Robot and bandit hit ground with a crunch.

Rouge had undermined the dirt under one of the robot's feet, making it even more unsteady than normal. At that point, even a slight change to its center of gravity was enough to make it fall. Rouge had been on the ground under and between its legs. When it fell, it flattened the bandit, but it missed her completely.

Not that that helped, much. The overwhelming pain of the injury- and the fact that it had clipped her wing and deflated a lung- meant that she was stuck out here. She couldn't get back inside the fence. It would only be a matter of time before the bandits came around, and then she really would be, literally and figuratively, fucked.

She sighed. That was all assuming she didn't die of blood loss out here alone. There was no way to apply pressure to a wound on her back. And it was getting colder; that wouldn't help. She rubbed her hands together through her gloves.

When she did, she felt a small disc inside one of the gloves' secret compartments. She frowned as she tried to remember what it was. It was larger than any coin... She popped it out. The night was dim, but her eyesight was keen.

An emerald over an inverted white arc.

_You don't have to be alone. Not if you don't want to be._

She looked towards the fence. The pikemen were still present, watching dumbly.

"Don't just stand there!" she shouted. "Get Knuckles! I need... no. Get Sonic! I'm hurt, I need help getting back inside. Get Sonic!"

One of the pikemen dropped his weapon and sprinted towards the Alley. Rouge looked down into her hand. She smiled.

She resolved not to tell him about the role he'd played. Not until he earned it, anyway. But she expected that he would.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: The Fallen Angel<em>


	20. The Fallen Angel

The night was too long and far too short.

Both sides worked through the night as they licked their wounds. Their efforts finished up as morning finally came. Everyone resented it. They all needed another few hours. Daylight promised to pile on more exhaustion and hurt. They'd long-since had their fill.

There was nothing for it, though. The bandits had graphically demonstrated their willingness to strike at any moment without warning. So the peasants yelled at each other, and dragged each other, and nagged each other, and slumped together to their posts, each with the energy and vigor of zombies. There were fewer of them than ever.

Tails and Sonic stood atop a roof facing down the Alley. They watched the pikemen try to form up. They had to adjust their intervals to compensate for the latest casualties. "I'm sorry, Sonic," said Tails shamefacedly. "It's my fault."

"What's your fault?"

"All the daytime attacks yesterday were diversions."

"Yeah, we figured that out when they hit us last night."

"No! I mean we could have known earlier. They used five guys on the diversions yesterday. The same five guys did every diversion. I'll bet you anything that's because the bandit leader put everyone else to bed so they could launch the night attack. I saw it through Betsy, but I didn't figure it out until last night. By the time I put the pieces together, it was too late. They were already coming."

"Maybe, but you still put it together in time to rig your sake bomb, and without that, we'd have been in a world of hurt. So it's sorta balanced."

"I wonder if Knuckles feels that way," he said glumly. "He had to stand against all of those bandits himself. Me, I took my one shot, and I was helpless."

"Knux wouldn't have had it any other way. What would you have done, anyway? You'd have had to stay out of his way and let him do his thing. That's not much different from what you did. Your weapon's Betsy, so it means you're good at some things and bad at others. None of us can fight the bad guys from far away. That's you, and you alone. So don't let it get you down. You're still my first choice in a brawl."

Tails couldn't help himself. "You always know what to say, Sonic."

"It's part of the job. It helps that I know what you need to hear. If it makes you feel better, I screwed up big time, too."

"You did?"

Sonic nodded. "I was so worried about the Alley I didn't even think that they might hit somewhere else, too. Only Rouge thought about that, and she got hurt for her trouble."

"You know Rouge needs to feel smarter than other people, right? I'm sure she was digging it."

"Maybe you're right. Either way, we must both be way too tired. We're making stupid mistakes, mistakes we normally avoid. At least we've got some strong allies to cover for us."

"Small blessings," Tails muttered.

Sonic looked at the peasants forming into ranks and frowned. "We're going to have to replace every sentry with an injured peasant, soon- anyone healthy enough to walk, look, and bang a drum. We're stretched way too thin now."

"Not just the peasants," Tails pointed out. "Without Rouge and Knuckles, how're we going to arrange ourselves?"

"Shadow can stay covering the south and east. We'll have to shift Amy over to the west. It's a lot of responsibility for her, but we don't have much choice. I'll head up the Alley. You'll take charge of the reserves."

Tails nodded in understanding. "At least we're killing them off, too. They lost, what, a dozen bandits killed last night? Maybe that many again wounded?"

"And a robot," Sonic added. "It was a rough night for everyone."

"Two more robots to go," Tails said. "I can't believe they were still using a silver man."

"No telling what they've still got left. We're close, though. We're almost at the tipping point."

"The tipping...?"

Drums. The peasants lurched for the Alley. Sonic and Tails saw a small number of bandits forming up on the far end of the Alley.

"Pick one off right off the bat," said Sonic.

"And see if that scares 'em away?"

"Bingo. I'm not in the mood for this."

"I sympathize completely. Coming right up..."

* * *

><p>The drums woke both Rouge and Knuckles. They were lying, him supine, her prone, on adjacent mats, so that their faces were pointed at each other. Their wounds were covered in copious bandages.<p>

As they came to, they caught sight of their counterpart, and both sighed.

"You too, huh?" they both said. "You really are careless. It was just supposed to be... me. You jerk. Why are you doing this? Stop talking while I'm talking!"

* * *

><p>Amy paced along the western fence. She carried her mallet over one shoulder. When the drums started sounding in the Alley, she reminded the peasants that Sonic and the northern pikemen had the situation under control. She felt the eyes of the peasants upon her as she walked past them. She made no response to it.<p>

The sentries watched her almost as much as they watched the forest. She quietly redirected one sentry's focus. The others took note. She didn't have to tell any more to stay alert.

When she got back to the pikemen, she encouraged them by saying that they'd done everything they could have to help Rouge, and that she expected them to give her the same level of assistance. Not a trace of her nervousness or doubt or fear reached the peasants.

She was learning.

* * *

><p>More drumming sounds made it into the warrior's house. Knuckles growled. "I should be out there," he said. "I hate this."<p>

"Neither of us is going anywhere and that's that," Rouge rebutted, even though her face was turned to the side away from him. "So learn to live with it."

Knuckles scoffed. "It's bugging you just as badly."

"...Maybe."

Knuckles turned his head to her. "Hey, you have medical training, right? That's how you knew what to do with Tails."

"Some," she said tentatively. "I was going to be a field medic at one point, but I abandoned the school early."

"Bull. Shit."

"I was taught just enough to be a better assassin," she said with frustration, "and I read a little extra for my own curiosity."

"So? That's more than me. How are we? Our injures, I mean, yours and mine."

She was a long time in answering. "Knuckles... you know I can't lie to you. If you ask me this, I'll have to tell the truth."

He closed his eyes and faced skyward. He took a deep breath. "Sock it to me."

"I took a sword through the back and it punctured the lung," she said, her voice clinical. "To be frank, it's amazing I didn't bleed worse at the time than I did. The area I was struck has numerous major blood vessels. It must have been because I conserved myself from the moment I was struck. Until I fully heal, I won't be able to move much or exert myself in any way. If I do, odds are I'll tear open my wounds and hemorrhage to death, or drown in my own blood. And my wing got skewered, too, so I'll be lucky to ever fly again.

"Still, it's not as bad as it could have been, all things considered. Provided I stay still for a couple of months, I figure I've got a fifty-fifty chance of avoiding infection and living through this."

She turned her head to face him for the first time. Her voice was hard. "You, on the other hand, are dead."

Knuckles chuckled weakly. "I thought you said I'm not dead if I'm still alive."

"This isn't funny!" she exclaimed. "Your intestines are a mess. The bacteria that are normally confined there are even now spreading into your systems. You can't properly process food or eliminate waste. It'll back up into the rest of your body. Five years ago, maybe even three years ago, if we could have gotten you to a hospital they might have been able to piece you back together. But here and now? Your wounds are already infected and hunger will shortly compromise your immune system. No matter what we do, you will die within the next ten days. And it will be a slow... painful... septic death."

Her words hung in the air. The drums outside ceased. For a moment there was a void of silence inside the hut.

"Hey, Rouge? Did you have to sugar-coat that so much? I just wanted the facts."

She turned her head away again. "Stupid anteater," she said, but not harshly.

The silence returned. Knuckles fancied he could hear the sound of his doomed heart beating. Rouge, he reflected, probably could.

"It's such a pointless piece of armor," she said. "It only protects your chest."

"There was more to it. It was destroyed in battle."

"Oh."

Her comment stirred something inside of Knuckles. Thoughts from long ago began to intrude upon him. He did not fight them, this time, and to his amazement they weren't painful. Instead, a sense of obligation began to rise up inside of him.

"I've got some information for sale," he said.

"About what?"

"Me."

She huffed. "At fire-sale prices, I should hope. Any information about you has an... expiration date."

"It's on the house."

"Then, by definition, it's not for sale."

"True, I suppose. But it's about more than me, really. It's about the fall of the Island of Angels. What makes it valuable is that this story is unique. No one else has ever told this story, because I'm the only one who knows it, and I've never told it to anyone. I've kept it locked in my heart."

"I've heard that one before," Rouge said. "Every spy says that. Everyone who interacts with a spy says that. It's a bargaining chip, and always a lie."

"Not from me, it isn't. I've told you before. My word has value."

She took a slow breath. "What's the price?" she asked.

"Listen to the story, and then we'll discuss what it's worth."

He could almost hear her frown. "You're a moron," she said after a few moments. "If you tell me first, I don't have to pay any price."

"If you say so."

Another long pause. He could see, metaphorically, the gears turning in her head. She sensed she was being manipulated, but couldn't see how or why. It felt refreshing to him to finally turn the tables on her.

"I'll listen," she said at last.

He looked skyward, composed himself for a moment, and began.

* * *

><p>I used to live on a small island covered in city. We called it the Island of Angels. The name might have been over the top, but at times it did seem heavenly. What a beautiful place! A lot of effort got put into keeping it beautiful. It was all gleaming marble and graceful fountains and parks and clean air and music. It's no wonder echidnas didn't leave there.<p>

The entire echidna population lived there- we didn't travel much. Ships and planes came to us to trade; we didn't go abroad. We kept ourselves to ourselves, and that was fine by us.

Even by the standards of the times we had technology to burn. That's what this was all about, really. Technology. The Island of Angels was a high-tech research hub. And there was one breakthrough in particular that would have changed the world. One breakthrough that sealed our fate.

Do you know why internal combustion engines were standard in cars for so long? Do you know why lasers took so long to replace guns and missiles, and in some places never did? It's all about energy density. It's about how much energy you can get for a certain amount of volume and mass.

It may not be obvious, but a lot of what makes society tick is tied to how much energy you can carry with you. It determines how much you can move from place to place, and how fast, and what you can do once you get there.

Why does all this matter? Because our breakthrough was a new way of storing energy. It was stable, safe, and very, very dense. It looked like a green crystal, so they were nicknamed "emeralds". Don't ask me to explain the science; I don't know it. But I know all about the debates it caused, because every echidna was part of the argument. Why, I was right at the center of the whole mess.

Everyone knew the emeralds were going to transform society. Even in good times, that would have been enough to make us think twice. Worse, the Eggman Wars had started the year before. Some of the larger countries had already lost major cities, and everything showed signs of getting worse, not better.

What were we going to do with our discovery? Three camps sprung up. The first were the Wardens. They thought that we should wait to spread the new technology. They were anxious that big businesses or governments would monopolize making emeralds, use them to get filthy rich, and use the money for all sorts of bad stuff. Plus, as the wars heated up, the Wardens worried about who'd be using the emeralds themselves, and for what.

The Crusaders, on the other hand, wanted to leap right into the middle of the Eggman Wars. They wanted to share the emerald technology so that Eggman could be wiped out and peace restored. They weren't so sure about what would come after, but they figured it couldn't be worse than Eggman drowning the world in fire, which is the way things were going at the time.

Then there were the Radicals. They had a dream about what the technology meant. The dream was peace. Real peace, not just knocking off Eggman and going back to lots of countries with lots of emerald-powered weapons.

Their plan was to spread emerald technology as far and as wide as possible. When you get down to it, you can get energy any number of ways; it's getting that energy to where it's needed that's the trick. Emeralds weren't a new source of energy, they were a way to make energy portable. So if everyone could make even a little energy, and everyone could use emeralds to make that energy portable, it would be harder for anyone to get super-rich off of them.

But the plan was even crazier than that. Emeralds made small weapons cheap and powerful. What they also did, and this was new in history, was they made defenses cheap and powerful. No one ever managed to make force fields practical when they had to be powered by batteries; they require too much juice. When you used emeralds, instead, then suddenly they became a good idea, and might just actually work.

That's where they were trying to get to. Make it so that everyone can make emeralds, and then make it so that everyone has the ultimate defense. Peace becomes inevitable because no one can hurt anyone. Don't just make murder and war immoral; make them impossible. Society would never be the same. This is the group that took the name further. They're the ones who coined the term "chaos emeralds".

Tikal was one of their leaders. Did I say "one of"? She was the beating heart of the movement. She was their moral compass. She had credibility from being someone who helped develop the chaos emeralds; probably no one knew them better. She was gentle, serene, perceptive, and intelligent. She didn't speak carelessly, so when she spoke, people listened.

She was the only woman I ever loved.

Which is funny, because her purpose in life was to destroy mine.

* * *

><p>"The <em>only<em> woman you ever loved?" Rouge said skeptically.

"Yep. The only one."

"I don't believe you," she said dismissively. "Males like to fancy themselves romantics, but they're still creatures of hormones. You want me to believe that in the fourteen years after Tikal died, you never once grew attached to another female?"

"She was. The only woman. I ever loved." Knuckles drew out the words, as if to ensure that Rouge heard them clearly.

Rouge turned her head away, then, with an abruptness that must have caused her discomfort. For some reason, it made Knuckles feel as if he'd done something wrong.

"Well? Go on," she prompted. Her voice was under rigid control and void of emotion. "There's more to this story, I take it."

"Yeah," said Knuckles clumsily. "There is. Tikal's Radicals wanted to put me out of a job- which might have killed me."

* * *

><p>Most of the people of the Island of Angels were pacifists. I don't know which came first, the pacifism or the principle of isolation, but by the time I was born, you couldn't separate the two.<p>

That said, we'd studied history. We weren't blind to the long, sordid history of nations taking advantage of each other. So we quietly built defenses... just in case.

You can imagine the kind of recruit we got. When the normal citizen is a pacifist, it's only the outliers who'll become soldiers. The ranks were full of oddballs, outcasts, and misfits of all kinds.

Except for me. Oh, I wasn't normal, by any means. The difference was that unlike some of the soldiers, who joined up because they had nowhere else to go, I belonged. I felt then, like I still feel today, that I was created specifically to be the best soldier the Island of Angels had ever seen.

I'm not being arrogant. It's a matter of fact. I mastered every weapon and skill they wanted to teach me, and a few they didn't. Swords, for example- even amongst pacifists, we had swordsmanship competitions as a sport. I lost my first duel on a technicality. I never lost again. I could follow orders, understand what my boss was trying to accomplish, and improve upon them as I went. The soldiers around me automatically looked to me, even the ones with higher ranks.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about how memory gets tainted over time. We tend to oversimplify, and color things a sympathetic sepia. It's easy to say I must be exaggerating. I know what I am, though, and that hasn't changed.

And that caused a stir, because they didn't know what to do with me. Promotion was tied to time in service. Even the best of the best, which I was, couldn't rise in the ranks that quickly. But most people who served with me thought that was an injustice. So they dug into the old books and protocols and discovered that, once upon a time, there was an honorary title used for the best soldier in the army. As far as the paper-pushers in the top ranks were concerned, it was perfect. The title gave me a bunch of ceremonial responsibilities, and kept me away from what they thought was real power. For my part, I wasn't used to thinking like that. All I knew was that I was being acknowledged for being the best. So I became the Captain of the Guard.

No one was happier for me than Tikal. We'd known each other for a few years at that point, and we'd fallen in love. It was hard, because we lived in separate worlds. She spent long days and nights at the lab. I was mostly confined to the garrisons, because the populace didn't really approve of soldiers. But we managed. We were young, and passionate, and creative. We managed.

So when Tikal's team neared the breakthrough on chaos emeralds, we had to have a talk about what it meant. Between Tikal and me, we duplicated the discussion our entire society was having. What were we going to use the chaos emeralds for? Who were we going to share this technology with? As we talked about it, she became more and more idealistic, until she became the first Radical. I, on the other hand, got more conservative, and ended up as a firm Warden.

And that got both of us into a jam. We weren't private figures anymore. She was the highly vocal leader of the Radicals; I was Captain of the Guard for a military that was overwhelmingly Warden. The news media loved it. What a juicy story! Whenever Tikal spoke about her dreams of universal pacifism, it was pointed out that she was seeing a soldier. Whenever I went anywhere as Captain of the Guard, they wondered if my relationship with a Radical might undermine the military's solidarity. It put us both under enormous pressure.

The strangest thing about it was that we never stopped loving each other. This is why I believe that people can't really understand each other. As Captain of the Guard, I was everything Tikal was trying to undo. She wanted to make it pointless for me to exist. That should have made me angry, or at least defensive. After all, I had no other purpose in life if I couldn't be the Captain of the Guard. But I loved her, all the same. It made no sense, everyone told me I was wrong and stupid for feeling that way, and I didn't care at all.

Tikal knew I saw her view as dangerously naive. She knew I didn't agree with or even like her Radical ideas. She loved me anyway. Not only did she love me- she continued to support me as Captain, even as she worked to make Captain meaningless. She was the one who had my armor commissioned- there'd never been a suit quite like this before. She came up with the heraldry, too. The white arc was me; it's my collar-fur. And the green gem... that was supposed to be a chaos emerald, because she knew that my destiny was tied to them, one way or another. Sometimes, though, I think she meant it to stand for her.

How did it work out? Who knows? The only thing I can possibly say is that we never let our opinions about the chaos emeralds touch our relationship. I thought her goal was unrealistic, but I was never threatened by her, and I never thought worse of her for thinking that way. She thought my view was unkind and uncharitable, but she didn't think those things about me as a person. We disagreed, but we weren't enemies.

People are stupid. Two people of equal intelligence and similar background can look at the same evidence and come to completely different conclusions. That's normal; it happens every day. What matters is how we view the other person, and when it comes to that, people just can't get it right. Ninety-five percent of the time, we get upset. The other person must be retarded, or someone has misled him, or he has some ulterior motive. How Tikal and I lucked into the five percent, I'll never know.

I'll really never know, because we never got the chance to find out which of us was right.

* * *

><p>Knuckles coughed hoarsely. "Sorry," he said. "It's been a while since I've talked this much."<p>

"I did hear about chaos emeralds here and there," said Rouge. "It was always rumors, though. They were supposed to be some kind of lost treasure. I looked into it, but could never dig up anything solid."

"We did a lot to try and keep it secret," said Knuckles. "We had pretty good control over the information that went out from the Island. Not total, of course. Everyone who was paying attention knew that we'd come up with something huge. It's just that no one knew exactly what."

"That checks with my experience. Even when I heard about chaos emeralds, no one knew how big they were, or exactly what color, or what shape. You could have put one in my hands and I wouldn't have known what it was. That's galling to someone with my... specialties."

Her tone of voice changed to something more suspicious. "Did they ever work?"

"Hm?"

"The whole point of chaos emeralds was to replace batteries and fuels, right? So you'd have to make an awful lot of them to meet demand. Yet I've never heard of any being used like that. So either they didn't work as advertised... or..."

"Or what?" said Knuckles.

"Or they were never manufactured in quantity."

"They worked."

"Then why didn't you make lots of them?"

He turned to try and catch her eye, but she was still facing away. "Because we were annihilated before we got the chance."

* * *

><p>I said our control of information wasn't perfect. Almost no one outside the Island knew the size of our breakthrough, and those few who did didn't know what exactly it was. But for some, it didn't matter. Eggman's greed was too strong. He knew we had something, some new technological advance. He had to have it.<p>

So he sent his forces- more robots than we could ever have imagined.

We had some warning. A force that large can't move undetected. When we learned they were coming, I took command of our military. I thought I'd have to fight for it. Silly me. The top brass knew the score, and they knew they wanted no part of what was about to happen. They were stumbling over themselves to put me in charge.

I led the defense.

What is there to say? I don't remember a lot. I was too busy. We fought, and fought, and fought some more. We were well-trained, well-equipped, and we had a few new chaos emerald-powered weapons. And we were horrifically outnumbered by enemies who knew no pain, no fear, and no mercy. We got tired. They didn't. We panicked. They couldn't. We retreated. They wouldn't.

After three days, half the Island was in ruins, and we'd been pushed back to the fourth defense line. We'd only planned and built two defense lines; the third and fourth I'd thrown together on the fly as they forced us back. For all that, it seemed like we were finally seeing the end of it. As I watched the battle, and fought myself, I saw that we were going to survive, if we could just stand fast for a little while longer.

That's when we picked up a new force coming in from the opposite direction. It wasn't more Eggman robots. No, this new force was a composite fleet from two or three of our closest neighbors. They had heavy jamming going out, so we couldn't contact them.

I was stuck. I believed that I could fight off Eggman if I could throw everything I had left at him. On the other hand, that meant stripping the few perimeter defenses we had left. I didn't know what the allies meant to do, and they weren't talking. Every moment that slipped by, my people died.

I had to make a choice.

I chose to trust the allies, even though I hadn't met them. I chose to take away the token defenses that were still along their axis of approach. I chose to take my chances with someone who might be an enemy so that I could beat what I knew was an enemy.

I chose poorly.

I didn't find this out until later- much later, and I had to break a few skulls to get the whole story. The allied fleet had two orders. The first was to assist the Island of Angels in repelling Eggman's attack. The second was secret, and conditional. If the Island of Angels was already overrun, and if there was risk that technology transfer was in progress, they were to prevent Eggman's acquiring that technology. All means were authorized. That's why they were jamming, you see- in case Eggman's robots were transmitting stolen technology. And that's why they were armed with city-busting bombs.

The leaders of the fleet saw us fighting for our lives against Eggman, and they came to a different conclusion than I did. They didn't see that we could win. They saw that we'd already lost. The fact that no defenses challenged them was taken as proof that we'd caved. That caused them to invoke the second part of their orders. They ordered their forces to sterilize the island.

We didn't know what they were planning until the bombs started falling on us and the robots alike. At that point, it was far too late.

In the end, my choice probably didn't matter. I'd already had to cut the perimeter defenses to the bone in order to hold off Eggman's robots. What was left could never have stood against a fleet by itself. Still... If I'd known, maybe we could have saved someone. Anyone. We would have had a little warning. And it wouldn't feel like I'd murdered my own people with my bone-headed naïveté.

The city was destroyed in no time. Marble was blasted to chalk, fountains were turned to steam, and parks were turned into standing firestorms. I fought on until I had no weapons left but my sword, and all the enemies left were out of my reach. I was helpless to stop it.

What amazed me most was that Tikal never stopped fighting, either, in her own way. As the fires spread, she sent me a message to meet her. Of course I went. How could I not? Everything I'd ever loved was being destroyed, but I still had her.

I knew the place. There was a particular building near the sea that had a cafe on the ground floor, and a fountain across the street. We'd frequented the cafe a lot, because it was cheap and we were poor. After we ate we'd cross over to the fountain and dip our hands in it and chat about whatever came to mind. So when she told me to meet her there, I knew exactly where to go.

I was a block away when I caught sight of her. The fountain wasn't working anymore- not with our infrastructure being blasted apart- but she was standing there, as I expected her to be. She had some new device in her hands. Some wonder-weapon, maybe. Something she thought I needed. I loved her so very much at that moment. There she was, risking her life to help me, just as she'd always risked everything out of her love for me.

The bomb hit the building across the street. The blast was strong enough that it burned me and knocked me down from a block away. Tikal never had a chance. She never even felt it coming. I still remember... maybe it's just my imagination, I don't know... but I have this image of her in my head. She's being lifted just off her feet by the shockwave, and then she simply... evaporates.

In a way, that bomb killed us both.

* * *

><p>Knuckles took a deep breath. His voice by now was raspy. Rouge said nothing.<p>

"Anyway," said Knuckles as he came back to himself, "there's not a whole lot past that. It took me some time to recover my senses, and by then, there was no more fighting. My soldiers fought like I'd trained them to do. They died to the last.

"So did my whole race. The fleet knew that some of our research labs were underground, so they didn't stop until the whole island was pulverized. My people had been sheltering here and there. The shelters didn't endure. It was all I could do to stagger to the harbor, find a small motorboat- anything of size had been sunk already- and head out to sea at random. I almost died of dehydration before I made landfall. After I recovered, I looked for any survivors of the echidna people. In vain. The allied commanders had taken their orders to the illogical extreme."

"So you became a street performer," Rouge said in a neutral tone.

"What else was there? I'd lived for exactly one reason, and that reason was gone. I'd... I'd failed. I'd failed as hard as anyone in this world has ever failed."

"No wonder you have no pride," Rouge said. "You had nothing left to take pride in."

Knuckles nodded, forgetting she couldn't see. "Sonic saw that in me immediately. He had me pegged from the start. And now... now I'm going to die, finally. At last. I've been a lost soul these past fourteen years. I've gone on living, but not for any reason, not with any direction. It was just... existing."

Drums started up again outside. Knuckles growled in frustration. Even reaching his hand in the direction of the drums was painful. Rising was out of the question. You never realize how much of your motions rely on your abdominals until they aren't available.

"The way you talk about it," Rouge said, "it's as if it happened yesterday."

"It might have, for all it matters. I haven't done anything of value since then."

"What was the point of telling me all of that? It won't do any good for your people. I don't even see what good it does you. It looks like it did nothing but make you relive your pain and misery."

"Pain's not so bad. I... I don't know. I always knew I was going to be the last echidna. As the years passed and I was never able to find another, I knew my people were going to be extinct when I died. I thought about it, and came to terms with it. I thought. Heh. Shows what I know. Because now... now... Damn it! I want to live! I feel like there was something I was supposed to do! Do you know how frustrating that is? I spent fourteen years doing _nothing_, and now, when I've got a few days left, now is when I have to get something done? I don't understand it at all."

"I have a guess," Rouge replied. "You wanted to tell me this story so that the echidnas would live on, in some way. Maybe someone would be able to tell their story, eventually, and they'd stay in people's memories. Someone once told me that we achieve immortality through children. This story is your baby, isn't it?"

"Does that make you its mother?" Knuckles joked weakly.

"A midwife, maybe."

"Maybe."

"The story is hugely valuable to you, that much I can see. But it's worthless to me. I can't use it for anything. All the governments that were involved have long since fallen, and odds are all the commanders bit it during the wars. Knowing this gets me nowhere."

Knuckles sighed. "Can't you think in any other way?"

"Why would I?" Rouge said- yet Knuckles could detect insincerity in her voice.

"Rouge, you don't have to act so mercenary when it's just us. You've got nothing to prove to me. I'm dead, remember?"

When Rouge finally answered, she spoke as if the words were being forced out of her. "I'm... glad... you told me."

Even through the pain, Knuckles felt lighter. He was able to raise his hand without being crushed by his inadequacy. "It means a lot to hear you say that," he told her.

"Of course," she said flippantly. "It is me, after all."

He chuckled, though it hurt. "You may be right."

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Free<em>


	21. Free

"Was she at least hot?" Rouge asked without prelude.

"Huh?" said Knuckles, caught off-guard.

"Tikal. You went so gaga over her that I figured she'd have to be a piece of work."

"You're making fun of me," Knuckles said, blushing.

"Not at all. I have my own inscrutable reasons, as I always do."

"Did you have to try and find a word like that?"

"I didn't have to find it. There are a few good words that describe me. I like to keep them handy. Now answer the question."

He frowned at her. Somewhere along the line she'd turned to be facing him again, and now her eyes were focused on him with an intensity that made him squirm. That he couldn't get away only made things worse.

"It doesn't matter," he said evasively. "I loved her, and she loved me. The rest wasn't important."

"A true romantic, huh?" Rouge said. She closed her eyes. Knuckles found it easier to breathe.

"Why do you ask?"

Rouge certainly heard the question. She chose to ignore it. "I have some information I'd like to sell you," she said to him.

"I'll take it. Call it payment for the story I told you."

"Not an even trade at all. I price this information much higher than what I'd pay for your story."

"So tell me, and then we'll put a price on it."

"This is a totally bass-ackward way of doing things, you know that, right?"

"We live to do things our way, you and me."

"That's true. One thing to keep in mind with this story, you'd ordinarily never be able to afford it. Because of your... condition... I've deeply discounted it. It's expensive for the same reason your story is. No one knows it but me."

"I thought you said everyone says that as a marketing technique."

"I did, and you know my word is cheap. There is one thing that should tell you to believe me, though."

"And?"

"This story's about me."

She paused to let him chew on the thought. "I don't talk about my past," she said. "I never have. While it might not matter to me, it matters an awful lot to other people. I can think of a few who would kill to know some of what I'm about to tell you.

"It's not just that they'd try to find my weaknesses. Part of my reputation as an... agent... was that I never spoke about my assignments. I was a consummate professional in that regard. I had a self-imposed gag order, and I wore it as a badge of honor. If anyone found out that I'd blabbed this to you, it would be... damaging. That's why it's safe to tell you, and only you. Because you're going to die."

"Really?" said Knuckles dubiously. "I thought other people's opinions didn't matter to you. Oh... they still don't. Of course. It's that you'd be breaking your own rules, isn't it? It's not that anyone still cares where you've been and what you've done. It's that your rule is to not talk about it. Your rules are the most important."

"Yes," Rouge said with some tentativeness. "My rules. That's what it was all about, really. I mean, it's not that I don't _care_ what other people think about me. Not exactly. Uh... how much psychology do you know?"

"Just the basics."

"Essentially, I have no superego. I can understand societal mores and norms, but they're outside of me. They don't touch me. They have no impact on how I think or act. It's just me and my id."

Knuckles frowned. "Isn't that a working definition of a sociopath?"

"Pretty much," she replied glibly. "It gave me a unique gift."

"What's that?"

"Freedom..." She sighed as if savoring the word. "True freedom, you see. Most people think they're free, but they're really not. Their chains just look or feel different. Other people still have a hold on them. Not me. I have never once obeyed another person. I've gone along a couple of times when it suited me, and I have complied in the face of force, but I have never acknowledged another's authority."

Knuckles tried to imagine what that would be like. "I could never think that way," he said. "We're opposites there. I've always had a sense of duty. You sound like you've never heard of the term."

"I've heard of it. It just never applied to me."

"Huh."

Rouge smiled to herself. "The organization that gave me my first training thought I'd be useful for that reason. They saw that morality had no hold on me and thought it was convenient. They could skip that part of my training, the part that involved breaking down restraints. You could say they got what they deserved..."

* * *

><p>As I said, I was free. Truly free. I felt no obligation to my trainers. They thought they could control me? They should have known better. They knew what I was. I ditched them the moment my training was complete, using the very skills they'd given me.<p>

Freedom is trickier than people think. Without anyone telling me what to do, how was I supposed to live? When I was younger, I enjoyed just doing the opposite of what I was told. Spite was its own reward. After I escaped my trainers, it wasn't that simple.

If you don't do something, freedom is a trap. It's an abyss that you can easily fall into. You can sink into blind hedonism or unvarnished apathy without even noticing.

So I decided: I would work to serve myself. I would build up wealth and infamy using my talents and newfound skills. I made some rules to guide me while I did. Specific jobs had their own rules. Take my first job, the thief. She couldn't just steal whatever she wanted. She could only steal from a certain type of person, under certain circumstances. She had standards- a different set of standards, mind you, than Rouge the spy, or Rouge the treasure hunter, which was really more of a hobby, or Rouge the mercenary, or, yes, Rouge the assassin.

I kept each of them distinct. They each had their own unique set of rules and guidelines. They weren't allowed to touch each other. I was never more than one of those things at a time.

The rules kept me focused. They kept me sane.

I could see all around me how people were losing their minds. You could say I was getting into the game at exactly the wrong time. The Eggman Wars destroyed the certainty on which people had built their lives. They quickly got to where trust vanished and paranoia dictated everything. It didn't affect me as much- so I thought- because I'd never trusted anyone. But for the people who did, it was quite a shock.

When people stopped trying to work together, they fell back on selfishness. They were bad at selfishness, and they pursued it in increasingly bizarre ways.

Here's an example. A river ran through country A and country B. It came through country A first, which built a dam across it. For his own reasons, and who could know what they were, Eggman attacked the dam. Country A had trouble holding him, so country B came to help. After Eggman was defeated, country B destroyed the dam. Why? Someone in their government went crazy and got afraid that country A might use the dam to cut off water to country B. That threat had been there all along, of course, and had never been realized, because who would do something like that? But in the midst of the wars, when everything looked like a threat, the implausible became terrifying.

If you think that was an unusual case... well, it wasn't. Soon everyone was thinking along those lines. If you didn't, you were abused by those who did. It was like how rabies transmits from animal to animal by biting. Madness is contagious.

I could see how this insanity was gripping people. More than that; my jobs kept me right in the middle of it. I made my money by wallowing in the craziness of others. So I clung tightly to my rules, the way a drowning woman clutches a life preserver. My rules would keep me safe, if I followed them.

I couldn't stay completely immune. I'd always preferred payments in jewels, which I appreciated on their own merits. And I was a thief, some of the time. Soon I found that I was addicted to stealing jewels. Jewels were nice on their own, and thieving was fun, but the two together made for one hell of a rush. I could manage that, though. Once I realized what my addiction was, I could control it.

I was able to stay focused and look out for number one with a clear head and a sound mind, even as the world around me shook apart. The spy community shredded itself. Killing became habitual whether there was a reason for it or not, but that just helped me stand out as a survivor. Along the way I killed many men, and others besides. I stole many things from owners who didn't merit them. I unearthed many a dirty secret. I became infamous in certain circles, though with a handsome reputation, and I was richer than my contacts would have believed. And I did it all while staying above the tide of madness.

That's what I thought. That's what I told myself. But two incidents made me doubt.

The first wasn't really my fault. A heavily-guarded convoy was skirting along the border of two countries, carrying jewels. I slipped in, stole the bulk of the cargo, and slipped out. Easy, and harmless, right? What I didn't know was why the convoy was there. It was part of a peace deal between the two countries. They'd been teetering on the brink of war for a couple of moons. The jewels were part of a last-ditch effort to buy off the larger and more aggressive country. When the convoy arrived and the payment wasn't there, peace was no longer an option. They were at war within days.

I didn't know any of that when I went in to take the jewels. How would I have? I told myself that, and it still shook me to the core. I was just doing my thing, and that was supposed to concern only me and my target. No one else was involved, and if they were, who cared? But my actions had helped start a war. Even if I didn't care about that, the war destroyed many of the people and places that might otherwise use my services. So stealing those jewels didn't really do me any good. It didn't help me, and it hurt others. How could I justify that? By saying I was following my rules when it happened? It was such a flimsy excuse I couldn't tolerate it.

The second incident was later- only about a year and a half ago, actually. I was operating as the thief again. There was a large mansion that was rumored to be holding some pretty expensive art and a good cache of other valuables. Yes, including jewels. I slipped in easily, undetected. I got distracted appraising the loot, and had a touch of bad luck.

The owner of the mansion was an old man by then, and had a combination of prostate problems and insomnia. He just happened to walk by where I was cracking his safes. I recognized him instantly.

I didn't know it was him when I was casing the place. Before the job, I knew "whose" place it was, but I didn't know he was the owner. It sounds confusing, sure. Keep this in mind: pseudonyms and anonymity are part and parcel of my craft. This man owned his house under a name I hadn't seen before. I knew him by a completely different name. How was I to put two and two together?

I didn't until I saw him. But then I recognized him. And I went a little crazy.

You see, he'd tried to kill me. Not that I minded, exactly; lots of people had tried to kill me, and a few had gotten close. I was the loose end of entirely too many black ops, and people kept trying to tie me up. I'd chosen to interpret it as a form of flattery and used it to enhance my standing.

His case was different. When he tried to kill me, it was while I was under contract with him. He signed me up to do a job which was really just a set-up for the chance to bump me off. I've never been closer to death and it took every trick in my arsenal to live through it.

Almost dieing isn't what really bugged me. What bugged me was that the contract was a lie. My whole identity was wrapped up in doing things by certain rules, and the most important one was adhering to contracts, for better or for worse. He took the one honest part of my profession and perverted it. He broke the rules. I hated him for that in a way I'd never hated anyone before. I'd killed many people without enmity; it was just business. This man had made it personal.

I hadn't expected to find him in that house. I never would have gone near him if I'd known. When I saw him, I lost my head. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to kill him. This was about more than rules and jobs. This was sheer malice.

In my defense, I only struck him twice- first to disable, then to kill. I didn't torture him per se. But even so, I ensured that his last moments were full of terror, and suffering, and pain. I tormented him before I sent him to Hell.

When it was over, I abandoned the theft and burned down the house to destroy everything. It's not that I figured someone would track me down over it. I just didn't want that place to exist any more.

The next day I had to take a hard, honest look at my soul.

I'd gone insane, that day. I knew I had. I'd violated my rules. The old man couldn't have stopped my theft. There were plenty of ways I could have pulled it off without him being able to stop me. Yet I'd killed him.

It didn't do me any good, either. He wasn't the head of an intelligence agency any more; the agency had shuttered when its government collapsed for good. He'd been unemployed for years. He couldn't hurt anyone, least of all me. He was just a harmless old man, living out his days amidst the ruins of the nation he'd once helped rule. Yet I killed him, killed him with extreme prejudice. I couldn't say I was doing justice because that wasn't my intent. My intent was to make him suffer. I knew without doubt that I had succeeded.

What had I gotten out of it? A moment of gratification, maybe, and an overwhelming sense that I'd lost my way. I saw the abyss, and it frightened me.

I was contracting the same insanity as the rest of the world's spies and agents and governments. My rules hadn't kept me safe, because who made sure I followed my rules?

I hadn't even managed to follow my self-interest properly. When I attacked the convoy, I had ended up acting against my interests. I'd started a war that could only kill potential employers. When I killed the boss spy, I had thwarted my own robbery and killed someone who until then had bolstered my reputation.

It was more than that, though. Those events forced me to look at the broader picture. I had helped people who were clearly insane. I'd helped them lie, and cheat, and steal, and kill, and break down trust. When trust collapsed, the world began to come undone. I hadn't minded at the time, because I thought I was just helping them do what they would have done anyway. Looking at it anew, I couldn't deny that I'd aided and abetted the process. I had actively made the world a worse place. In so doing I had harmed myself. I'd helped the world go insane. When the world went insane, eventually there weren't any clients left. They were all dead or rabid. I'd thought it was okay so long as I stayed sane, but I couldn't even save myself.

Had my entire life been a mistake? Had I been wrong all along?

I looked at my cache of jewels. It was huge, at this point. It was also worthless. The gems were pretty, sure, but I couldn't do anything with them. No one could afford to buy them, and even if they could, what would I take as payment? Everything worth buying had been destroyed. And I had helped it happen. I'd helped the world burn to the ground.

I'd failed myself. Only one person's opinion had ever mattered to me. I, who never in my life acknowledged a law, had done _wrong_. In my own eyes, I was a criminal.

So I left it all behind- my fortune, my carefully cultivated reputation, my contacts, all of it. I flew and flew and flew. I escaped the web I'd woven to trap myself. I flew into the freedom.

I eventually ended up in a place where I'd never operated, a place where I knew I'd be unknown. I crafted a new job for myself- Rouge the warrior. I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. But I needed to do something. I needed to find a way to cleanse myself. I needed to do something _right_.

I'm still trying.

* * *

><p>Silence returned, but it was a different silence from before. Earlier, the silence had been empty and expectant. It had made the two wounded warriors uncomfortable because it demanded to be filled. It had been a silence created by sounds unmade and words unsaid. This new silence was the silence after the storm. It belonged to Knuckles and Rouge, together, created by their having said things they'd desperately needed to say.<p>

Were drums sounding? Who cared if they were? There were more pressing concerns on their minds.

"So... now what?" said Knuckles.

"Now? Now I need a drink."

He frowned. "Do you have one on-hand?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Are we square for our stories?"

"We're square."

"Good."

"Rouge?"

"Yes?"

"Am I beginning to smell?"

"You always smell."

"Do I?"

"No. I was just teasing."

"Oh."

"Hey, Knuckles? You really are a virgin, aren't you?"

"It's still not any of your business."

"But...?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be damned. You're a true romantic after all."

"Hey, Rouge? This job is the good you wanted to do, isn't it? I told you that part of you wanted to do good!"

"Yeah, yeah, you were oh-so-smart and figured it out. Get over it."

"Do you think Sonic knew what you were trying to do?"

"I don't think he cared that much."

"I do. He's smarter than he lets on. He figured me out instantly."

"There's not a whole lot about you to figure out, Knuckles."

"Nice to see we're more affectionate now that we've traded our intimate stories."

"Oh, don't be like that. It's fun, is all."

"It's not that fun."

"You're just saying that because you lose a lot."

"I don't... Rouge, your arrogance is astounding."

"That's what I am."

"And I know it better than anyone."

They laughed at that, though it hurt. It wasn't so bad when it was both of them together.

* * *

><p>There exists a tired beyond tired. People who have worked through the night know this. Sonic knew it well. There is a state of fatigue that is normally unachievable, where you are so sleepy you become alert again.<p>

When the body has been denied sleep for a sufficiently long time, and you get to the time of day where you'd be awake again, eventually it gives up. It seems to decide that you have a good reason for what you're doing. You gain a momentary reprieve from fatigue as your mind wakes up again, and you achieve a level of alertness that is almost as good as if you were rested. Sonic liked to call it his "second wind".

This is not without cost. Because you don't feel as tired, you believe you're more awake than you really are. You forget that you're subsisting on stolen wakefulness. And when fatigue hits you again, it is crushing, overpowering, well more than twice what normal tiredness feels like. There is no resisting the exhaustion beyond the second wind.

That was why, when Sonic saw Tails stagger where he stood, he understood what was happening.

"Tails, go to bed," he said.

"It's still twilight," said Tails, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Go to bed," Sonic repeated. "You were awake all yesterday, and all last night, and all today. You're at the end of your second wind. Get some sleep."

"You've got to be hurting, yourself," Tails pointed out.

"We all will be, soon. It's just four of us now on night watch. Shadow and I will split tonight. You and Amy will get tomorrow."

Tails nodded without much effort. When the prospect of sleep was presented to him, the reality of his duress took command. It was all he could do not to fall down on the spot.

"Now get going."

"Alright, alright," Tails assented. He staggered back towards the warrior's building.

Sonic passed the nightly stand-down order. Soon the pikemen were pulling back from the walls into the buildings of the village. Now was the time to eat, rest, and relax for a moment. The sentries would stay until the night watch came on station.

Life, such as it was, continued.

Except for Sonic, because this was his life.

Those who'd known him when he was younger had thought he had no attention span. He couldn't focus, they said, on anything longer or more difficult than, say, flipping a coin. That wasn't quite the case, even though it looked like it. He was restless, and had energy to burn, so much it bubbled up out of him and compelled him to move. Most of the time he made his decisions, it was in a split-second, shoot-from-the-hip fashion.

That didn't mean he couldn't focus. It just meant he usually didn't need to. Even in his youth he'd been able to settle on a goal- like chasing down Eggman- and follow it to its conclusion, without distraction. He was applying that same faculty now.

The peasants were winning this war of attrition. The bandits had tried several strategies, and Sonic had thwarted them all. Each time, the bandits lost some of their numbers advantage. Soon they'd reach the tipping point. Soon, they'd...

Sonic was distracted.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw moving pink. He kept his head from jerking around automatically; he had that much discretion. Instead he slowly turned his head just enough to get Amy into his field of view.

She had a furtive expression on her face, though she was anything but inconspicuous. She was towing Shadow along behind her. His expression was unreadable. He wasn't fighting her, but neither was he moving much on his own.

Sonic opened his mouth to speak- and clamped his jaw shut just as quickly. He wanted to move and not move at the same time, which did nothing but make his legs ache from over-tensing.

What would he say, anyway? What would he do if he moved?

He forced his face forward. It was their business, not his. It was up to them how they spent their precious sleep time. It was up to them how to interact with their fellow warriors.

So why oh why did he feel the need to intervene?

Was it responsibility? A little, no matter how that didn't make sense.

Was it protectiveness? Some, ditto.

Was it jealousy? No, he answered quickly. Well... okay, maybe a bit.

Even all of that put together shouldn't have added up to the certainty he felt.

He hoped it worked out.

He tried to refocus on the war. It was futile.

The only thing he decided for sure was that he'd give Shadow a bit more time to sleep tonight before he tagged out for the night watch. Shadow would probably need the extra rest.

* * *

><p>Amy was talking.<p>

Shadow knew this, but he didn't know what she was saying. He'd long-since lost the thread of the conversation.

Some time after motion had ceased and they'd relaxed, she'd started talking about things Shadow didn't understand. He'd only been able to keep up for a few sentences before bewilderment set in. She didn't even realize that she'd left him behind. Under normal circumstances Shadow didn't respond much. That meant she couldn't discern the silence of waiting from the silence of incomprehension.

Why was all this necessary? he wondered, shifting his head on her spare bosom. Why all this talk about what might come next? Hadn't she said they would rely on instinct for the next step? And even if she hadn't, couldn't she just appreciate where they were and what they'd done? Wasn't this enough? Why couldn't she live in...

...the present.

He was doing it again, he realized. He'd allowed his vision to narrow and exclude the past and future. There was more to life than the flash of a sword, wasn't there?

He looked up towards her face and tried very hard to understand what she was saying.

She was rambling on about the places they could go together. Something about it began to bother Shadow. When she paused a moment to catch her breath, he blurted out, "You know he cares about you, right?"

"Huh?" Her train of thought had continued down the same tracks as before. Diverting it was difficult.

"He does care about you," Shadow said, though more timidly. He didn't have to specify who "he" was.

Her expression turned cross. "What do you know about it?" she said with irritation.

"I've spoken with him. After a fashion."

"What, you mean that swordfight? Well there must have been a translation error. He doesn't care about me, not in any way that really matters."

"Amy..."

"And anyway, so what if he does?" she said, rolling over his words. "I chose _you_, not him."

"You fell back to me," Shadow muttered, looking away.

Amy reached to Shadow's head and cradled it with her hands. "Shadow darling," she said, "we're together, and it's made me happier than I've ever been in my life. It's made you happy, too, hasn't it?"

"Yes?" Shadow murmured uncertainly.

"So why question that?" she said. "Why worry over it? Just relax and enjoy the ride."

She kissed the top of his head, then. Far from reassuring Shadow, the gesture merely added to his confusion and misery.

Poor Shadow. He'd never even heard of the word "bullying".

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Flash<em>


	22. Flash

Morning came.

They changed out Knuckles' and Rouge's bandages, though Amy had to steel her stomach against the sight. Knuckles' bandages reeked of more than blood.

Sonic talked to them as they worked. "Listen, we've hurt the bandits pretty badly," he said. "We're not at the tipping point yet, but we're getting close. I'm guessing they'll have to use their walking wounded soon."

"Their walking- but those guys will hardly be able to fight," Amy protested.

"They don't have to fight much to keep us pinned in place," Sonic replied. "And using the wounded frees up the able-bodied to be somewhere else. Pretty similar to how we're putting our wounded on sentry duty, really. So if we see the walking wounded fighting in the Alley, it means the real action's gonna happen elsewhere."

The other warriors nodded in appreciation.

"They've still got two robots," Sonic added. "And they haven't hit the south yet, other than that one infiltration. Stay on your toes. Make sure all your pikemen are in armor. We've gotten enough from dead bandits now that everyone should have something. Keep your pikemen alive, and we'll win this."

They filed out, leaving Knuckles and Rouge. He waited until they were all out of earshot before he spoke.

"Hey, Rouge."

"Yeah?"

"Amy's boinking Shadow, right?"

"It took you this long to figure out?"

"No! This is just the first time I'm talking about it."

"Suuuuure."

"I feel like she's stupid for doing it."

"Why?" said Rouge with puzzlement.

"I'm not sure. But I see she's getting awfully emotional about it."

"Oh. Then she's definitely stupid."

"Huh?"

Rouge tried to shrug and failed. "If it was just to relieve stress and tension and hormones, sure, it'd make perfect sense. I'm not above that myself. But if she's emotional about it, she's in for a surprise. Shadow's not enough of a person for a real relationship."

"Hmph! What would you know about real relationships? Your stock in trade is fake ones."

"You have to at least know what a real one looks like to hold a convincing fake one."

"If you say so."

"The point is that Shadow's incomplete. He's not all there. How old do you think he is?"

That gave Knuckles pause. "Twenty? It's hard to say. At least fifteen."

"I'd say he's five years old, tops."

"Are you kidding?"

"Not even a little bit," she said evenly. "He's not a natural-born. He bears every hallmark of being an incomplete bio-weapons project. One of my jobs had me keeping tabs on the major labs. Give me a couple weeks and decent access, and I think I could figure out which lab he came from. Thing is, most labs liquidated their projects when they went down. Either this one let him go, or he escaped when he was supposed to have been liquidated. I wonder about that. They could have left him there, trapped inside his pod, and no one would ever know..."

She shook her head. "Whichever, that would put his escape maybe four years ago. I don't see a bioweapons lab keeping fully developed specimens around for too long if the buyer reneges."

Knuckles grimaced. "So he looks much older than he really is. It's a strange sort of pedophilia. He's got the emotional maturity of a five-year-old."

"And less life experience. Whatever she feels for him, he's ill-equipped to reciprocate. That's what makes Amy stupid. She's forgotten something every woman learns."

"What's that?"

"Never fall in love with your dildo."

Knuckles grew thoughtful for a moment. "You know what, Rouge?"

"Hm?"

"That might be the rudest thing I've ever heard."

"Aww, you're making me blush."

* * *

><p>Tails looked through Betsy's scope. What he saw made his jaw drop.<p>

How did Sonic do it?

He scanned the horizon as quickly as he could. So far, nothing away from the Alley- but that was certain to change. Tails shouldered Betsy and took a quick flight down from the roof.

"Sonic!" he shouted. "Sonic, they're..."

"...sending in the walking wounded?" Sonic said without looking. His gaze never wavered from the end of the Alley. He was tightening down his gloves.

"How did you call it?" Tails said, dumbfounded. "You only just mentioned it this morning!"

"I think I've got a handle on their leader," Sonic said. "He's getting desperate. 'Sides, we've both seen enough fighting to know how this sorta thing goes."

"You're going to stay here, then?"

"Someone's got to head up the Alley," Sonic replied. "Do a quick round. Make sure Amy and Shadow are on their toes."

"All over it."

Sonic stared down the Alley. Fighting the wounded bothered him. Admittedly, it wasn't any more or less one-sided than when he fought most normal soldiers. Still...

Not that it would matter. He hadn't told Tails everything. He really did understand the bandit leader, so he knew what would happen to these wounded bandits next. Whether Sonic killed them or not, they were dead.

* * *

><p>"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall..."<p>

"Rouge, if you actually sing that song, I will kill you if it kills me to do it."

"You had your sense of humor surgically removed, didn't you?"

* * *

><p>"Shadow!" Tails shouted as he flagged down the black hedgehog.<p>

Shadow had been standing with his eyes closed, as usual. He looked in Tails' direction, but said nothing.

"Keep your eyes open," Tails admonished. "We've got the walking wounded in the Alley. That means... what is _that_?"

* * *

><p>"Come to think of it, I <em>haven't<em> seen Sonic take his shoes off."

"Bizarre, isn't it? Does he even have feet?"

* * *

><p>Bandits were emerging from the forest on the far side of the flooded field. It was hard to make out how many at this distance. No one was looking much at them, though, not when a robot was in their midst.<p>

Tails inspected it. It had treads for movement, and a wide-based, sloping body, like a tank without a turret. Instead a humanoid torso was mounted to a spot near the back of its frame. Tails almost sighed. Even in an age ga-ga for robots, wouldn't a normal tank design rigged to be autonomous have been more practical?

Tails' gaze continued to rise to the robot's shoulder. A long tube extended out from over the robot's shoulder, connected to a box welded to its back. Was that... a magazine? Which made the tube...

"Duck!" Tails chirped.

* * *

><p>"Look, I don't dislike Shadow per se. It's just... his needs can be summed up in one word: personality."<p>

"See? You can be rude, after all. And funny, too!"

* * *

><p>The robot fired.<p>

The shell hit a hut before the report of the shot reached the village. The hut was obliterated on impact. It transitioned instantly from a standing building to a storm of shrapnel and dust.

Smoldering debris showered onto the next building in line.

* * *

><p>"Oww!" said Rouge, hands covering her ears.<p>

Rouge and Knuckles heard crackling. They looked up. Smoke was wisping out of their roof.

"Oh, _shit_," they said together.

* * *

><p>Shadow turned to Tails. "Can your bow carry that distance?" he asked.<p>

Tails checked it. He was equipped with number two string for archer counter-fire. He said with a grimace, "No way. Even number three might not make it."

"I've got it," Shadow said. He took a few steps backwards for acceleration room, then shot up to full speed.

He left the embankment in mid-stride. When his foot hit the surface of the water, it never had a chance to sink. It impacted with so much horizontal velocity it was like a skipping stone.

Shadow was running across the floodwaters.

There was no way they wouldn't see him coming. He couldn't try to turn or dodge; he'd sink instantly. All he had going for him was sheer speed- speed beyond anything they might have expected.

Several of the bandits moved towards the embankment to cut him off. The robot swiveled its torso to bring its cannon to bear against the speeding hedgehog. Did Shadow have any extra speed or effort? No; he was already moving flat out. He gritted his teeth and focused on the distance he was consuming.

Shore came closer, closer, ever closer...

The robot fired again.

The shell missed Shadow and hit the water behind him. When it exploded, the shockwave churned the surface of the water. Shadow's foot, instead of finding a flat surface off which to skip, encountered a frothy, rippling mess. Unable to get traction, he splashed down into the fetid waters.

He'd gotten to within a spear's thrust of shore.

It was a convenient measure, since the closest bandit was wielding a spear.

As Shadow got his head above water, the bandit jabbed out at him. Shadow dodged his head, ever so slightly, and grabbed a hold of the spear. He yanked backwards. The bandit stumbled a step, then pulled back hard, trying to reclaim his weapon. It worked just as Shadow had intended. When the bandit pulled back, Shadow planted a foot against the embankment and stole the bandit's strength to pull himself out of the water.

Before the bandit could respond, Shadow destroyed his spear with battoujutsu. He almost absent-mindedly blocked an attack from the next bandit to approach. He had no time to waste with them. His focus was strictly on the robot.

Everything else fell away. He darted forward, leaving the two surprised bandits behind him. He charged in towards one bandit, making him panic and bring his sword in for protection; Shadow used the opportunity to slip past him. He made another minimalist parry to work past the last bandit- and now he had a clear shot at the robot. The robot tried to swivel to bring its cannon to bear. Shadow was too close for that to mean much. Shadow leapt onto the top of the robot's hull, sheathed his sword, then swung with all his might.

His katana sheared through the barrel of the robot's cannon. It fell to the deck with a loud, hollow clang. The robot didn't hesitate. It lashed out with an arm to try and batter Shadow off of its surface. Shadow slid back to avoid it, then had to hop away from the edge as a bandit sword swung for his feet.

In his determination to disarm the robot, Shadow had ignored everything else. Now, he realized, he was surrounded. Three to one odds he would have accepted instantly. Five to one was interesting. Eight to one was almost foolish. Where Shadow had ended up, he was facing ten bandits and the robot itself.

They were no amateurs, either. Five bandits had closed in tight around the robot's chassis. The other five were in a loose outer circle. They would be there with a blade if Shadow made any desperate maneuver to try and escape the inner five.

Shadow's analytical mind was baffled. Now what?

* * *

><p>"He did it!" shouted Tails.<p>

All around him, the pikemen of the west cheered. They'd come running at the first blast from the robot, then had been forced to wait and watch helplessly. Now, with Shadow's success, they were elated.

"Wait," said Amy. "Why isn't he coming back?"

The cheering died immediately. Tails squinted through his scope. "Looks like they're in a tight group around the robot," he said. "He can't get away. He's trapped."

"Do something!" Amy shouted. Alarm was rising in her voice.

"I can't!" said Tails, unable to hold against her hysteria. "I can't hit something that far away!"

The two of them looked at each other with panic. Then, as Tails watched, Amy mastered it. She matured before his eyes. It was like watching time-lapse photography of a flower blooming. Determination settled in where panic had been moments ago. "I'll save him, then," she said.

She moved so she had a clear path to the embankment. Her breathing was quick. Over a few seconds, she evened it out. Her eyes were focused.

_I'm not as fast as Sonic or Shadow, and I've never tried anything as wild as running across water. But I know I'm fast enough. I can do this. No... to save Shadow, I _will_ do this!_

She accelerated to full speed and left the embankment and her doubts behind.

The steps came too quick to count or think about. Each one took her further away from solid ground. It was working.

A grin burst upon her face, despite the exertion. She would make it. She'd save Shadow.

* * *

><p>Shadow dodged another grab from the robot. The bandits swung for his legs to cripple him. His feet lifted and jerked about as if he were doing a strange quick-step dance. He had nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide. The bandits were content to keep up this pressure until he tired and made a mistake. This was far more taxing for him than for them.<p>

Shadow was unfamiliar with despair, so he never would have called what he felt then by that name. It was a new sensation. Feeling it surprised him. Where had it come from?

He parried a blow from a gladius and swung back, but the bandit was too far away and the angle too unfavorable. Shadow's katana glanced harmlessly off the bandit's helmet.

Why couldn't he think his way out of this? There had to be a way. There always was.

He ran the simulations over and over in his head. Even in the best case, where he was able to get his back against the robot and it didn't move, he wouldn't be able to kill all of the bandits before one of them got him. The outer ring of bandits was dispersed perfectly. A maximum distance jump would put him in range of one at the start, and a second within a step- the gap was simply too small, especially since he'd have to commit to a jump like that well in advance.

His chest constricted. What was this feeling? Why did his lungs feel like they were filled with ice? Why was his heart hammering against his sternum? Why did colors seem more vivid, motion more extravagant, and all lights brighter than before?

He stumbled, and the nearest bandit took advantage. Shadow blocked at the last moment, but the bandit sword still cut across the front of Shadow's shin. Shadow cried out in unexpected and hateful pain. No one had ever made him bleed before.

His mind was blank for a few moments as he focused on the pain. His sword flashed almost of its own accord while he defended himself. Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt so much?

It was only a preview, he realized. More pain would come soon enough, when he tired and the bandits drug him down, or the robot actually snagged a hold of him. Then... he would die.

That bothered him.

It never had, before. He'd understood death as an ending, but it had seemed so... distant. He'd never conceived of how death might be different from his small life. As the bandits kept him at bay, the prospect of death was real, and relevant, and close.

The robot surged forward. The acceleration pitched Shadow from his feet. He rolled to compensate, and landed adroitly enough to avoid yet another swipe from its arms. A naginata arced in on him a moment later. Shadow batted it away with a cry of frustration.

He didn't want to die here! Not when there was so much out there to do and see, not when he'd looked forward to the future... not when living meant being... with...

He realized at last what had happened.

Amy.

He was afraid of losing his future because she'd given him a future worth having. He'd always known that dieing meant not living. Only after meeting Amy did he conceive of that as a loss.

He realized all of this, and his thoughts realigned. Everything was like an illusion. All those things were external. They couldn't be real. Only one thing was real, and it weighed heavily in his hands.

He got out one last thought from his previous line of thinking- _I'm sorry, Amy._ Then he became one with the sword once more.

Shadow slipped away. He was the hands that carried the sword, and the eyes that guided it, and the mind that aimed it. He was a weapon, as he always had been, even if he'd forgotten for a time.

There was a way out of this, after a fashion. There was the ultimate expression of skill. No one had ever destroyed a robot and five or more bandits with a single swing. He could do it, though. He knew how.

He would live in one glorious, mind-searing moment. He would be vindicated. None could doubt that he was Shadow, the best that had ever been.

And it would be easy. Easy as falling asleep.

The naginata-wielder tried his luck again. Shadow deflected it contemptuously. He was waiting on the robot. When it reached for him, Shadow pounced. He touched down on the robot's shoulder. His balance was impeccable; when the robot shifted to try and shake him off, Shadow barely even swayed.

He spun his sword until it was tip-down. It shone in the bright sunlight.

_Good-bye._

With a roar, he plunged the sword down with every iota of strength and skill he possessed.

* * *

><p>Military-grade explosives are surprisingly stable. You can set them on fire and they won't explode. The same could not be said for the propellants used in that robot's shells. Shadow's sword penetrated the magazine, glowing white-hot from friction. It struck the topmost shell with the force of a hammer and the heat of a soldering iron.<p>

It touched off the propellant of the first shell. Much of its energy discharged onto the next shell in line. Its propellant "cooked off" and ignited as well. That was enough to set off the next, and the next, until the temperature and pressure inside the magazine were causing it to burst apart. Before it came fully undone, a blasting cap inside one of the shells went off, triggering its explosive.

The chain reaction became irresistible. The other shells detonated, one after another, so close together that it could only be perceived as instantaneous.

* * *

><p>There was no past. There was no future. Shadow's life was the flash of...<p>

* * *

><p>Sudden blinding heat, a battering from an invisible hand, and then...<p>

Amy splashed into the water. Panic filled her as water rushed into her mouth; her esophagus closed off her lungs in self-defense, sending her brain into unreasoning frenzy. For a moment the world spun as up and down became arbitrary. Primal instinct compelled her to thrash around- there was the bottom! She pushed off with more energy than direction. There was enough momentum to propel her head back above the surface. She gasped in air. The sudden change caused her to hack and cough.

It took several seconds for her nerves to calm enough for her to wonder what had just happened.

She looked around to get her bearings- and had to squint. A fireball on her target embankment was rivaling the sun.

She didn't understand. Where had this light come from? Was this some sort of bandit trick? Or maybe an ability of the robot?

There had been ten bandits, right? She only saw four, and they were picking themselves gingerly off the ground, as if a violent wind had splayed them off their feet. They were ringed around a rapidly expanding cloud of metal and fire.

As she watched, most of the flames faded into smoke, though a fire still burned at ground level. Debris rained down across a wide area. Flakes of metal and paint were pattering into the water around Amy's head.

Comprehension refused to come. What did this mean? Where was the robot? And the other bandits around it, and Shadow? Maybe this was a trick of Shadow's. Who knew what he had up his proverbial sleeve?

The light eased and most of the smoke dissipated. The fire at the base continued to burn. The smoke coming from it was heavy and black and foul-smelling, the product of electrical insulation and hydraulic fluid. There was barely more than a skeleton of tortured metal where once had been a formidable robot.

So the robot was destroyed, Amy concluded. But where was Shadow? And the other bandits, where were they?

Four bandits from the outer ring were holding their heads- even though they'd been standing at a distance, the blast had been strong enough to rattle their brains. Amy tried hard not to follow the thought to its logical conclusion, but she couldn't help it.

That meant that someone standing closer to the robot when it exploded would have received an even worse blow. And whomever had triggered the explosion had taken the worst hit of all.

Shadow's only weapon was his sword.

She kept expecting at any moment for Shadow to emerge from the blaze. That's how it had always worked, in those shows and movies she'd watched so long ago- the bold hero strolled out of the smoke, wreathed in flames but unaffected himself, cool, confident, sexy, maybe with a slight smile on his face. Explosions weren't supposed to affect good guys.

But time continued to tick by. Not only didn't she see Shadow walking away, she didn't see even a trace of him anywhere.

No Shadow.

He was gone. Gone so completely it was like he'd never existed.

_Gone._

The word repeated itself in Amy's mind, again and again, until no other thoughts existed and she was hyperventilating.

She let out a wretched, piercing shriek.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Woman's Prerogative<em>


	23. Woman's Prerogative

Before Knuckles' and Rouge's eyes, more smoke appeared on the roof of the warrior building.

"That's going to catch fire in a moment," said Knuckles in emotionless tones.

"Yeah," Rouge agreed.

Knuckles closed his eyes. He took a calming, steady breath. "You'd better get out of here," he said.

Rouge turned her head to face him. "What are you talking about?"

"This place is about to burn down," he said. "It'll kill you if you're inside. You'd better leave."

"What about you?" she said with a frown.

"You don't really care."

"Answer the question."

"What do you think?"

Flame licked into life on their roof. It was hard to see through the thatch, but they could tell.

"I can't move and that's that," said Knuckles. "Just get out of here. Don't worry about me."

"I see."

Knuckles listened to her laboriously get to her feet. Good. She would live, at least. He took another deep breath and steeled himself. He'd heard that burning alive was as painful a death as could be imagined. Maintaining a bit of dignity through that, he supposed, was probably going to be impossible. With any luck he'd pass out from smoke inhalation before he caught fire. Of course, he still had his claymore, if he could figure out a way to kill himself with that unwieldy blade...

His mat shifted a bit. His eyes popped open.

"Rouge!"

She was squatting down. Her hands were holding the top of his mat, near his head. She was clearly favoring her right hand. She gave another experimental tug.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? You're an idiot."

"But... but it'll kill you!"

"Probably." She visibly gritted her teeth and gave a strong pull. Knuckles' mat slid towards the door. The effort taxed her; she paused a moment to reassess.

Knuckles' voice pitched uncharacteristically high. "No! Rouge... no! Let me go!"

"I won't leave you to die," she said.

"But I'm going to die anyway, you said so yourself!"

"We're all going to die, eventually. But you won't die here. Not now. Not like this." She gave another strong tug, and managed to take a step during the surge.

"Who cares? I was dieing already!"

"You won't die in that fire," she said through gritted teeth. "I've killed people with fire. It's horrific. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all you."

He forced himself to swallow. "Then kill me yourself. If you want to save me from the pain and terror of fire, then do me quickly, then go and live."

She snorted. "No, I'd rather you survive this. You never were good at looking after yourself."

"It doesn't matter if I survive. My life has no value."

"You're a moron if you think that," she grunted. Another step. Her skin was paling despite her exertions.

"You were going to live!" he blurted. "It's not worth it! Don't throw away the rest of your life for a week of mine!"

"Shut up! I'm trying to concentrate." She moved him again. Her bandages began to stain red. She got another two steps closer to the door before pain forced her to release him.

"This is insane," Knuckles said in disbelief. "You've gone mad."

"No," she replied. "My head is clear. I know what I'm doing, and why. You won't die here."

"It makes no difference," he said.

"It makes all the difference," she said. She tugged again, but could only move half a step before she lost her grip. She cried out in pain and tumbled onto her back. Her breathing was wet and congested.

"I don't understand," said Knuckles. "I thought... I thought your life was the most important thing!"

That gave her pause. She said nothing for a moment- not, as it turned out, from doubt, but merely because she wanted to pick her words. "You told me you're a lost soul," she said. "There's still something you have to do in this world. You deserve a chance to do it."

"Fuck it!" he said. "It's not worth you dieing!"

"I'll be the judge of that," she replied shortly. She grunted as she brought herself back to a squat and grabbed at the mat again. More steps- almost out the door. This time when she released him she had to cover her mouth as coughs wracked her body. Her glove came away stained with red.

"Rouge... no!" he said. He shoved at her, shoved her away. "I won't let you die for me!"

Annoyance crossed her face. She slapped him.

The gesture stunned him, as slaps are wont to do, for the salient feature of a slap is not pain or injury. The notion that she had slapped him caused Knuckles' mind to empty. When he looked back to Rouge, the expression on her face was one of tender exasperation. It was a face like none he'd ever seen, and he knew- he didn't know how, but he knew- that it was a face like none she'd ever made.

Knuckles lost himself in her eyes. She was so close to him he could feel her hot breath washing over his face. So close, and yet he couldn't reach her in any way that mattered. He could wander in her eyes forever and never get anywhere. "No part of you is self-sacrificing," he said. "I've seen you at your best and worst. This... this isn't any part of any of your jobs."

"Until now."

Drops of blood fell from the corner of her mouth onto Knuckles' forehead. "Then... as what? Is this your new warrior?"

"No. All the old jobs are gone."

"Then what rules are you following? What is this about?"

"This..." she wiped blood away from her mouth and grabbed his mat savagely. "This... is me as a _woman_!"

Knuckles' jaw dropped open for a moment. He shut it, and closed his eyes. His demeanor went from one of denial and upset to one of serenity. He rubbed at the blood that had fallen on his face and kissed his gloved hand.

Rouge cried out as she pulled his mat through the doorway. Moments later the fire spread over the entirety of the hut's roof. She'd gotten him out in the nick of time. It took her two more cycles to get Knuckles' mat to a safe distance.

Blood was trickling steadily from Rouge's mouth when she collapsed against the wall of the next hut in the row. She wiped it away with the back of her glove. More was there shortly thereafter. Her breathing was wet and ragged. Her bandages were heavy with absorption.

"_Damn_ it," Knuckles swore. "I only ever once got my way, and I had to beat you up for that to happen. You always got your desires. Even this. I wouldn't have sacrificed you for me in a million years. Why is it always about what _you_ want?"

She chuckled and closed her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I'm just a selfish bitch after all. Right to the bitter end."

He shook his head slightly. "But, you know... I wouldn't have you any other way."

The words rocked her. She placed a tremulous hand over her heart. "I've had men tell me they loved me, and others that they adored me, and others that they worshipped me. I brushed them all off. But that... that one got me. It's certainly the only one I took to heart."

"You're not lying, are you?"

"You'd know."

"I suppose."

They sat in each other's company, then, with calm and something that resembled contentment. From the Alley came frantically ringing bells. Nearby, Amy rushed past them with an aspect worthy of a gargoyle, and her bewildered pikemen followed on her heels. None of it bothered Rouge or Knuckles in the least.

They had everything they needed, there, as they shared their dying moments with each other. They were oddly parallel in this- each knew no one would mourn them, no one would even remember them. Rouge had lived her life behind the scenes; Knuckles had been wandering away from an obliterated past. It was just as well to die now, when in the company of someone who understood the other, even if just a little bit. They knew all these things without saying them. They'd spoken enough.

Maybe this was love, after all.

It hurt, yes, as her lungs filled with blood and his organs rotted. There were worse things than pain. And much better.

Rouge smiled, though she kept her eyes closed. "We really should have had sex when we had the chance," she said.

"Who says we still can't?"

She laughed at the joke, and he shared her amusement. The laughter was short-lived. Soon it dissolved as she coughed up blood and he moaned in pain and clutched his stomach.

Rouge's eyes fluttered. "Are you okay?" Knuckles said stupidly.

She gave a single, half-breathed chuckle. "Just peachy. I'm not even in pain. I was when I was pulling you out, but now I'm not. I suppose you really are the pain in my ass."

"I didn't ask you to do it," Knuckles said. It should have sounded gruff, but there was too much compassion to sell the effect.

"It's a funny world. I've teased death before, you know."

"You are a vicious flirt."

"Aren't I? Those other times, though, it always was filled with agony and terror. Now? I'm completely relaxed. I thought... I thought it would be the worst. It's not. I feel... ready."

"Did you do good?"

"Hm?"

"You told me you were looking for a good thing to do. Was this it?"

"What do you think?"

"I thought only your opinion ever mattered."

"I'll make an exception."

He snorted. "Pulling me out of there was the stupidest, most pointless thing I could have imagined."

"Oh."

"But... it was lovely."

"...I see."

Her head lolled as her lifeblood seeped away. She raised it again, as if she'd been nodding off to sleep and had remembered something to keep her awake. "Hey, Knuckles?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in life after death? Some sort of afterlife, or reincarnation?"

"I couldn't say. I haven't been on speaking terms with God lately. He and I had a bit of a falling-out."

"Well, I hope there is something like that."

"Really? You, of all people? Why?"

"So I get another crack at you, of course!" she said with a laugh.

Knuckles blushed all across his face and down his chest. "That's as nice a thing as anyone's ever said to me," he said.

"I win again," Rouge said. Her voice was breathless and airy. "I wasn't joking, though. I really... I really think that... that we could... make it... you and me..."

Her head drooped forward until it reached the limit of its motion. The sound of her breathing became lighter and lighter, until it couldn't be heard at all.

"I love you," Knuckles said urgently. He was too late, as he always was in these matters.

Rouge, the second woman who had loved him, was dead.

* * *

><p>The wounded bandits and the winded pikemen regarded each other at close range. Neither side was committed to battle, but both kept all eyes on their opposite numbers, just in case.<p>

The pikemen had started to run in confusion when the robot had fired its cannon. It had taken Sonic several agonizing moments to restore their discipline. The bandits had thought they had an opening there, and had approached to take advantage, but the pikes were in place just in time, and the bandits decided not to push their luck. Now they were locked in a stand-off, neither side willing to give, neither side eager to attack. The peasant archers were doing their best to make the bandits decide to run, but the bandits had spearmen to suppress some of them and shields to guard against the others, so the stalemate continued.

Sonic was proud of the pikemen. They'd come a long way from the timid, half-hearted peasants who couldn't be convinced to save their own hides...

"YeeeARGHHHH!"

Sonic looked behind him. Amy was barreling forward, her mallet held high in the air. Her face was a mask of unadulterated rage.

He extended an arm to try and slow her down, but she pushed through it without breaking stride. "Amy, no!" he called, but she couldn't hear him and would have ignored him if she had. He let out a clear, sharp whistle, and started to run.

The bandits were battle-hardened and cynical men. Each had a more-than-passing familiarity with death. Even such as these backed away when Amy approached.

Sentient beings sometimes forget that there's an animal sharing their skin. The animal has instincts and fears embedded deep in genetic memory. The animal fears madness. The animal fears spite. The animal fears an animal that knows no fear itself.

The bandits, obeying imperatives as old as life itself, shied away from Amy.

They couldn't do it quickly, or well. Each of them was hobbled in some fashion. And Amy was approaching with reckless abandon.

The nearest bandit to her realized he couldn't escape. He raised his sword to defend himself.

Fury gave Amy's blow a strength her muscles could never have generated on their own. The bandit could have deflected another sword, or even an axe. Amy's mallet hit his defenses with overwhelming power. It blasted the bandit's sword back against him and shattered it against his breastplate. The breastplate itself caved in. The bandit flopped to the ground, breathless and gasping.

The other bandits scattered away from her. It made no difference. She locked her eyes on the first bandit in her field of vision and dashed after him. He started to turn rather than try and face her. She brought her mallet down on his shoulder. It was a pulverizing blow that turned his collarbone to dust and sent fragments of rib scything into his lung. The impact jarred Amy's body almost as much, but she was beyond caring.

"Berserker," some of the bandits whispered.

If her conscious mind had been on the same planet, she might have agreed. Instead she simply scanned for a new target. She picked one, seemingly at random, and charged after it. This bandit was nimbler on his feet. He was able to slip away from her first strike. The downside of Amy's choice of weapon instantly became clear. Any second strike from a weapon that relies on weight will always be slower and weaker than the first, and the time lapse between the two can often prove fatal.

The bandit struck back towards her with a rapier.

There was a clang as another sword deflected the bandit's. The bandit had only a moment to puzzle over this before Amy's hammer turned his brains to jelly.

The encounter slowed her down. When she picked her next target, she didn't have the same momentum she had before. She battered away at him, one blow, two, three, eventually breaking his wrist. He fell away even as two more swords slashed at her. Neither connected; she didn't even notice that they'd swung, and instead rushed at one of her attackers. It took her five blows to break down his defenses, and the blow she finally managed to land merely shook him through his armor. He wisely played it off as worse than it was, and she lost interest.

During the exchange, more bandits tried to attack Amy. Amy had charged heedlessly into the bandits' midst. They fell back at first, but she couldn't protect herself everywhere, and she could only attack one at a time. The others flowed around her like water and tried to cut her down. Their attacks didn't land. Amy didn't care what kept her safe; she didn't even understand she was under attack.

Her momentum was gone, now, and the bandits were professionals. They hemmed her in close with swords and spear points, much as hunters corner a wild boar. She battered several away and attacked again. She was unable to get close enough to score solid hits. Frustration heaped upon her already unhinged mental state. She swiped some weapons away and charged into the gap. Two swords that should have skewered her were deflected away before her body arrived. She used the opening to send two bandits sprawling.

The bandits readjusted to keep her centered. She allowed it to happen because she could no longer stop it. Her strength was abandoning her. Her petite frame was shuddering from the demands she'd placed upon it. She should never have been able to swing her mallet that many times that quickly with that much force. Her berserk attitude had driven her past her normal limits. Now those limits were reasserting themselves. Muscles seized up, tendons tightened, and blisters formed on her hands. She couldn't fight any more, not as she had.

Her anger burned itself out. The bloodlust faded from her eyes. The red haze that had clouded her mind receded. She hadn't the strength to hold her mallet up any more. She let its head fall to the ground.

"You back with us, Amy?"

Amy looked over her shoulder. She could not have been more shocked if Eggman himself had been standing there. "Sonic!"

He shot her a grin over his shoulder. He was standing, as much as quills allowed, back-to-back with her. "Well, this is a pickle."

"When did you..." She frowned. She didn't know how to phrase the question, given that she wasn't sure what she herself had done in the preceding moments.

"Been with you all along," he answered. "Why do you suppose you aren't dead?"

She didn't know how to answer him. Her brain was short-circuited. The bandits pressed in. With her bloodlust gone, the animal parts of the bandits were no longer afraid. They closed for the kill.

Sonic whistled again, clear and piercing. "Hey, Amy. Do you have one more swing left in you?"

She nodded. "One more."

"Great. Break my sword."

She blinked and turned towards him. "Huh?"

He jabbed his katana into the ground at a shallow angle. "Break my sword. Then get down."

If her conscious mind had been working, it might have interfered. Her subconscious knew enough to trust Sonic. She lifted her mallet with enormous difficulty and brought it down against Sonic's blade. It shattered cleanly about a third of the way down its length.

"Get down!" Sonic ordered. She fell to the dirt, automatically, even as four bandits attacked from three separate directions.

Sonic blocked them all.

What was left of his sword seemed like it occupied all points in space at once. With its motion, Sonic crafted a shimmering shield that deflected any blade that came near.

From every imaginable vector, bandits slashed and stabbed. Sonic was a blue blur even though he was standing his ground. His head jerked around as he kept as much as possible in his sight. His feet flew as he turned, turned, turned, dodged, bobbed and wove. His arms never solidified in sight as they whipped the remnants of his katana across every sector.

Having a sword as short as Sonic's now was made offense nearly impossible. But the reduced weight unleashed the full potential of Sonic's speed. In his hands, a sword that small was better than a shield. It sparkled and shone as it blurred through the air.

One moment, he deflected three attacks and dodged a fourth, then did the same the next moment. It was the rule, not the exception. No opening existed long enough for a blade to reach it. Amy looked up at him in awe. She knew that, if she survived the day, she'd never see anything like this again as long as she lived.

The clangs were deafening as Sonic's sword, light as it now was, forced heavier swords off of their paths. The bandits would later claim that Sonic's skin was made of metal, that surely some of their blows connected and it was armor that produced the clanging.

Sonic knew better. He felt the cold of bandit blades against his skin several times. Each time, the incoming blade had been deflected barely enough to keep it harmless. Sonic had no time for anything more.

The bandits pressed in closer. He couldn't stay lucky forever. He couldn't see every blade; some of Sonic's deflections were barely more than him clearing whole areas he couldn't see by instinct and chance. They would pull him down eventually, and he had to tire, as quickly as he was moving.

For now, though, he was lost in the moment. He exulted in his own speed. He was the eye of the storm, and the storm itself, and he lived for that sensation.

Then, as one of the bandits wound up his swing, a bolt evacuated his skull. A deep voice bellowed, "Charge!" A battle cry echoed from a dozen throats that, a season ago, had never uttered such a sound.

The peasant pikemen crashed into the bandits like a tidal wave hits a seawall. Everywhere bandits were knocked to the ground, or impaled and driven down, or trampled under sandaled feet. The bandits fought back with a viciousness and skill worthy of veterans. To their shock, the peasants returned the favor with the same qualities, and in similar measure.

These were not the same peasants that the bandits had so casually intimidated before. The peasants had seen plenty of engagements, now. They'd fought the bandits, and won. There was no fear any longer, only skill and nerve and a battle-edge as hard as that of the bandits themselves.

The bandits were pushed back relentlessly. The bandits that had encircled Sonic turned to defend themselves from the peasant charge. The moment their attention shifted, Sonic punished them. With speed that would shame a serpent he buried the husk of his sword in a bandit's chest. Before the corpse hit the ground, Sonic had pried the sword from its fingers and used it to hamstring a bandit to his right.

The bandits' spirit left them. They couldn't hold against a charge like this. The wounded bandits hobbled and shambled their way back up the Alley, and the peasants ran them down, and Sonic was there at their front with his purloined sword, cutting down each front-runner. This extermination would be complete...

A bolt whistled past Sonic. Endless campaigning with Tails meant he understood it as a message rather than an attack. He looked, not where it had come from, but where it was headed to.

One bandit archer fell. The others drew.

"Down! Down!" Sonic hollered. He dropped to the dirt himself. The peasants tried, but the pikes were so large, and they were running so hard...

Arrows flew directly down the Alley, plunging into peasants and bandits alike.

The peasant archers answered directly, and with some effect. They didn't stop the bandit archers from firing a second volley, and then a third, before they backed off.

Sonic wanted more than anything to chase them down. Anger burned within him, almost as hot as it had burned in Amy. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

The moans of the dieing brought him back.

"Get down here!" he shouted to the peasant archers. "They won't be back. We need to get our wounded home. We need all the hands we can get!"

He wasn't here just to kill. He was here to save. If he acted now, he could still save some of them.

He turned. The first person he saw was Seiji. Sonic let his stolen sword slip from his fingers. Two arrows protruded from the peasant's body.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: To The Last<em>


	24. To The Last

Knuckles lay idly on his mat as the warrior's building burned. He was helpless as a newborn, and that was maddening. The discomfort of being so close to the flames was nothing compared to his frustration.

He heard scraping. With effort, he moved his head until he could see the source. A small peasant woman, smaller than Amy even, was wielding a shovel close by the burning hut. She wore a sling that kept her infant child pressed against her body. The peasant woman was absorbed in her work. The infant gave Knuckles the blank stare of the put-upon baby who'd cry if momma wasn't so close.

He couldn't picture Rouge wearing a sling like that. His brain rejected the image altogether.

Drums.

These drums were in the west. Knuckles identified the spot by direction and timbre. That was a nasty bit- the fence came awfully close to two huts that had a gap between them. Most times when he'd commanded the west, he'd had his pikemen go around the huts altogether rather than try and squeeze between the huts and the fence. He'd complained about it to Tails, but Tails had replied there was no helping it. Something about crenellations, something about the dirt. Whichever, Knuckles knew it was a liability, and the detail stuck in his mind. It was hard to get to in order to defend. Of course, if the bandits did attack there, one well-placed defender could hold them off; the huts acted as a funnel...

The drums turned to bells.

Knuckles took a deep breath. There was an ancient story he'd heard, once. It was about female creatures who lived in a coral reef. They were so beautiful that male mariners couldn't resist them. The seafarers threw themselves overboard and drowned, or turned their ships into the reef and dashed them to pieces. One clever captain made downward-looking blinders for his men so that when they passed the reef, they wouldn't see the creatures, and so wouldn't be tempted. But in a fit of arrogance, he decided he wanted to see the creatures himself. He directed his men to tie him to the mainmast to keep him from acting about it.

The rest of the story eluded Knuckles' grasp. He couldn't remember if the captain lived, or broke free and drowned, or went mad from the agony of thwarted desire. He couldn't recall the moral of the story, if there even was one. All he knew was that he sympathized greatly with that old-time mariner.

It was pointless, though. He couldn't move. Even if he could, he couldn't fight. Responding to those bells would kill him, and probably do the village no good at all. It would be a pointless gesture.

As pointless as...

The bells kept ringing. They were ringing, if anything, faster and more urgently, though the sentry must have been tiring by that point. Knuckles realized why. No one was coming.

Amy had gone to the Alley. Her pikemen had followed her. The defenses of the west were completely stripped. The reserves... no, if the situation in the Alley was that dire, surely the reserves were already committed.

He saw what the bandit leader had intended. The bombardment from the south was to cause panic and fear. The big, obvious push would come from the north, but it was mostly a feint. The bandits would play it soft. They would be waiting... for a small team to slip in through the west, get behind the pikemen, and slaughter them the moment the Alley attack force committed for real.

Knuckles' First Law of Pikes. Let no one behind you. Let no one to your flanks. One enemy behind the line kills the whole line.

_One enemy behind the line..._

Knuckles grunted with pain and effort. It was pointless. He couldn't rise.

Scrape, scrape, scrape...

Knuckles looked at the peasant woman again. She continued to give him no mind. The baby had Knuckles in her field of vision, but only because she had to look somewhere and he happened to be in that direction.

"Hey, woman," he called.

She stopped working. She gave the smallest bow that was still polite. "Yes, warrior?" she said. There was no subordination in her voice. She'd said the word warrior with the same tone he'd said woman. Knuckles liked her already.

"What's your name?"

"Kaoru."

"What are you doing?"

She went back to digging. "A small trench will catch some of the burning debris from this hut. This will help ensure the fire doesn't spread." Her attitude implied that his distraction from this important task was not useful.

Knuckles frowned. "Where's the rest of your fire team?"

"Hiding. Cowards," she spat. "They hid when the first shell hit. Too scared to look and realize that it won't shoot again."

"I need your help."

She didn't look at him. "Yes?"

"I need you to get some of those people out of hiding. I can't really move right now. I need help to get to those bells."

Kaoru planted her shovel in the ground. She gave him a business-like looking-over. "I don't need any help," she said. "I'll do it."

Knuckles blinked slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely. When my husband hurt his leg last year, I helped him back to the village, and he's much larger and heavier than you."

"Who's your husband?"

"Seiji."

Knuckles marveled at that. It seemed impossible, but also perfect. "Okay. I trust you. Let's go."

Kaoru quickly realigned her sling so that her baby was braced to her front rather than her back. "Your arms still work, right?" she said as she worked.

"My arms have all my strength. Nothing below that."

"Right. We'd better do piggy-back, then."

Knuckles grimaced as they moved, but no sound escaped his lips. Time was too short to indulge in pain.

Soon, his arms were extended over Kaoru's shoulders; she held them down to get the leverage she needed. Knuckles held his claymore with both hands. His feet dragged uselessly behind him. Kaoru made only one huff of discomfort before she began to walk.

"This is as awkward a position as I've ever been in," Knuckles said.

"I can drop you, you know," Kaoru said with difficulty.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Knuckles said quickly. "It's just... I've never needed help like this. I didn't expect to be in this position when I came here."

"Neither did I," said Kaoru. "Life's crazy."

The baby, who had been quiet to this point, giggled happily. Knuckles felt a pang that had nothing to do with his injuries. "You have a beautiful baby," he said.

"Thanks," Kaoru answered.

"And your husband's a good man."

"Flattery will get you nothing from me."

"I suspected as much."

"Then why do it?"

"Because it's not flattery. Saying those things was right."

"Is that why you're fighting for our village? Because you think it's the right thing to do?"

Knuckles chewed on the question for a moment. "I suppose," he said. "I'm good at fighting. I'm pretty awful at everything else."

"That's where we're going, isn't it? We're going to where the bandits are attacking."

"Yes."

She fell silent. The baby hiccoughed.

"No one would blame you if you didn't," she said.

"What?"

"You're wounded," she said reasonably. "Even I can tell it's crippling. You can't even walk! No one would think worse of you for sitting this one out."

"I would."

"That's not worth much," Kaoru mumbled.

"You're wrong," said Knuckles. "As a friend of mine reminded me, it's worth everything." He smiled at that, and felt pain at the same time, and the two sensations were inextricable.

Kaoru didn't speak again. She toiled on, bringing her cargo to its destination.

"Down this way on the right," said Knuckles. She turned laboriously but said nothing.

As Knuckles remembered, the two huts in this section of fence made a sort of funnel. They were too close to the fence for an armed and armored soldier to slip by; they'd have to go down between the huts. At its narrowest, Knuckles imagined he could touch the hut on each side with his claymore with only a step in each direction. It was the perfect place for a stand.

Three bandits had succeeded in cutting away the cross-bar from this section of fence. As Knuckles arrived, they were pulling a post out of the ground. The fence was breached. Kaoru gasped, and Knuckles didn't blame her. She knew as well as he did what doom that represented. The baby burped.

The bandits began to push their way through the gap they'd created. The bells stopped as the sentry ran for his life.

"Stand me up here," said Knuckles. He tried to get his feet under him. It was harder than he could have imagined. Kaoru had to bend forward until Knuckles' feet were flat on the ground, then ease him backwards into a standing posture.

Knuckles locked his knees. He placed one hand over his gut to try and hold his innards in place. He was bandaged, but he had a strange sense of opening and sliding in his belly. It was extremely disconcerting. He couldn't see it, but his bandages were rapidly staining red.

He grit his teeth. This was it. This was all he could do. He knew that if he tried to take a step, if he so much as unlocked his knees, he would fall to the ground and be killed on the spot.

This was where he'd have to make his stand- the last stand of the echidnas.

He drew his claymore. It was heavy, heavier than it had ever seemed before. Knuckles knew what that meant- he was weakened by his injuries. There was no helping it. How long had Knuckles taken for granted his absurd strength? How arrogant could he have been, to think that his power could last forever?

He swayed slightly. It snapped his focus back to the present. "You'd better get out of here, Kaoru," he said. "I have to hold them."

"Hey, look, a dead man walking," jeered one of the bandits. The last one was pushing his way through the fence and into the funnel.

"I bet one good push and he'd fall," said another.

"One _bad_ push!"

Knuckles knew the truth in their words. He resolutely ignored them. "Take care of your baby, Kaoru. Seiji's counting on you. I'll hold them here."

Kaoru gave Knuckles a curt nod and headed away.

"Kaoru!" he called over his shoulder. She paused a moment. "Tell Sonic that the Captain of the Guard sends his respects... and apologizes."

She nodded again. Knuckles faced forward to see the bandits drawing their weapons.

A cruel spark rose in one of the bandit's eyes. "You guys handle the corpse, I'll take the woman," he said. He saw how Knuckles held his claymore in his right hand, and moved to the far left, outside the echidna's reach. Knuckles' insides roiled. He couldn't step over to pinch the bandit off, he couldn't even twist his torso...

The bandit rushed past Knuckles. He didn't realize that Knuckles was ambidextrous.

Knuckles saw him start to move. He swung his sword. As it passed in front of him, he swapped the sword from his right hand to his left. The claymore clipped the bandit in the back of his leg. The bandit spun to the ground. Knuckles swung his left arm in a high circle and brought it down. Down, through armor, through flesh, through bone.

Knuckles' stomach seized up. He gave a tortured, dry heave. He clamped his right hand down on his belly. The saturated bandages there were trying to pull away from his body. It was all he could do not to fall over. Not long ago his impeccable sense of balance had let him pull off incredible maneuvers. Now, the same amounts of talent and effort were devoted to merely keeping him upright, and that was a stretch.

His steadied his gaze on the other two bandits. Even as he dispatched the first, he stared them down. His eyes carried a simple message: _Please leave. Not here, not now._

The bandits said nothing, but their fear-filled eyes answered. _Yes, here. Yes, now. We know what will happen if we lose this war. You may scare us, but death scares us more._

Knuckles closed his eyes in silent acknowledgement and professional respect. Calm washed over him, despite the pain, despite the enormous strain it took for him to remain standing. He reopened his eyes to face the battle once more. "Come on, then," he said. It was not a challenge. It was an invitation.

The bandits separated. One went to Knuckles' left, the other to his right. Normally this would not have bothered him, because normally he could maneuver himself to keep the fight close to a one-on-one. Now, with him less mobile than topiary, all he could do was watch with agony-filled anticipation as they prepared their attack.

The bandit on Knuckles' left began to swing. Knuckles read it immediately- shallow, short, devoid of power. A feint. Knuckles had to honor it, though, or it could turn into a real attack. He swung his sword, but slowly, in control. The right bandit's timing was off. He began his attack too early. Knuckles quickly strengthened his swing. The second half of its arc was much faster than the first; it caught the right bandit's weapon and deflected it with a harsh clang. The left bandit tried to take advantage. Even wielding his claymore with only one hand and burdened by injury, Knuckles could still whip the heavy broadsword around. He deflected the left bandit's opportunistic strike, deflected it with such force that he could see the bandit wince from the shock of metal-on-metal.

The bandits retreated a step, out of striking range. Knuckles was left panting heavily. His strength was seeping away moment-by-moment. The discomfort in his belly was now simple pain; it intruded on his consciousness in an enormously unhelpful way. Rouge had given Knuckles ten days to live, but that was assuming he was resting and focused on prolonging his life. In these circumstances, he was burning through his remaining hours as if they were seconds. The longer this went on, the closer he'd come to collapse. He needed to force the issue, but he lacked the ability.

Looking at the bandits, he read urgency on their faces. He realized that they didn't have the option to wait for him to die on his own. They were supposed to be in position by now, and here they were, dancing with a cripple. They had no time, either; but unlike him, they could drive this fight to its conclusion. This would end, one way or another, very quickly.

The bandit on Knuckles' right edged even wider, right to the edge of the funnel, before he struck. Knuckles knew it wasn't the real attack, knew the bandit on his left was just waiting for his sword to be out of position to attack. Knuckles had no options. He wielded a claymore, and he would live and die by its properties. Just as its reach and lethality had kept him alive before, now its weight and slowness might kill him. At his best he'd compensated for his weapon's drawbacks with footwork, but that was out of the question now.

So he swung, out of resignation and a paucity of options. He swung, exposing his left side to the bandit's attack. He hit the right bandit's weapon hard enough to make him take a couple of steps backwards to regain his balance. That meant that when the left bandit's sword pierced Knuckles' arm, the right bandit was no distraction to appreciating this new pain.

The sword thrust was delivered from maximum range, and was never intended to be a body shot. The bandit was just trying to cripple Knuckles so that the next attack would be lethal. Knuckles saw his opportunity even through his pain. With a roar of determination and fury, he clamped his left arm down against his armor. The sword sliced through more of his arm, tearing through muscle and flesh, until it met bone and stopped. The bandit tried with rising panic to withdraw his weapon, but found he couldn't; it was pinned between bone and armor.

Knuckles transferred his claymore from left hand to right, brought the sword around, and struck at the bandit's chest. Claymores are made primarily for slashing, not thrusting. But if the metal is strong, and the edges are sharp, and the stroke is true, then a claymore will suffice.

The bandit fell, rapidly expiring. Knuckles relaxed his left arm. The bandit's sword dropped away from him. Arterial blood sprayed over Knuckles' chest and face. The brachial artery, Knuckles thought dimly through an ocean of agony. That alone could bleed enough to kill him if untreated. Combined with the massive bleeding from his abdomen and he was racing towards death's embrace.

Now, too, his left arm was useless, exposing his defenses even further. Sacrificing his arm had given him his only chance, but he was fresh out of arms, and another painful wound was yammering for his overloaded brain's attention.

His tongue lolled out as he gasped for breath. Even this small amount of exertion was draining his body. He was bleeding out at an alarming rate. The bandages on his abdomen could no longer absorb all the blood pouring into them. The edges of his vision were becoming fuzzy. His knees buckled for a moment, delivering a shock of pure terror. Even when he kept his balance, remnants of fear still echoed in his mind.

_One enemy behind a line of pikes kills the whole line._

That thought was all he focused on. It was his lighthouse through the fog of encroaching death.

The bandit slid along to Knuckles' weakened left side. Knuckles watched him do it, helpless, despairing. The bandit was eying Knuckles' left leg. He looked back at Knuckles; their eyes momentarily met.

They were professionals. They knew how this was going to play out.

The bandit feinted. Knuckles was obliged to respond to it. He swung his sword with all the strength he could. The bandit withdrew, then feinted again. Knuckles swung the opposite direction. The momentum of his sword carried it to his right, far away from the bandit, leaving him completely open. The bandit stepped in and stabbed Knuckles' leg.

The attack caused Knuckles' eyes to slam shut. When the bandit withdrew his weapon, Knuckles knew, he would fall, and that would be the end...

No! Not yet! There was a way! There had to be!

As the bandit withdrew, Knuckles brought his claymore back around and plunged it into the earth. Before his balance and strength abandoned him Knuckles surged forward. He used his good right arm and his sword to swing his body forward like an upside-down pendulum.

The very surprised bandit had time for one swing. It clanged harmlessly off Knuckles' armor.

And then the echidna slammed into him in a clatter of metal and a shower of gore. The two of them fell to the ground. Knuckles pushed up on the bandit's body and cocked his good right arm above the bandit's face.

_I told you, Rouge,_ he thought. _I don't need weapons to kill._

He had two knuckle-barbs. The bandit had two eyes. The math was perfect.

He drove his fist down, down, remorselessly down, drilling for brains. He didn't stop until the bandit stopped spasming.

That...

...was...

...it.

He flopped off of the bandit corpse. There was no more strength to be found in his body. He'd given everything. He couldn't lift an arm; he couldn't even keep his eyes open. He'd been existing on pure willpower, and that was spent.

The pain receded. Knuckles knew well what that meant. It meant he was moments from expiration. It was to be expected- he'd known from the start that he'd die in this place. He couldn't think very clearly. A white fog covered everything. From the blood loss, he supposed, but who could be sure?

He relaxed and stopped worrying about it. Now that death was upon him, he stopped trying to avoid it. New thoughts came to him- new and gratifying.

_I'm not a lost soul, any more,_ he thought. _I can die in peace now. Why? Because I held them._

_Did you hear that, Rouge? Did you hear that, Tikal? I'll join you soon. Before I go, I want you both to know it could be done. I'm not a failure in the end. I'm not much of a success. But I'm a success. _

_See? It can be done, after all!_

_I felt so guilty that the women I loved had died for me, and I could do nothing for them. But I want you to know that you didn't die in vain. Because of you, I got another chance. Because of you, I held them._

_Welcome me, Rouge. Be happy for me, Tikal. Guide me back to your embrace. I'll meet you both with a smile, because I held them._

He closed his eyes as his lifeblood left him.

So died Knuckles, last of the echidnas.

* * *

><p>It began to rain.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Turn, Turn, Turn<em>


	25. Turn, Turn, Turn

The only sounds were the drumming of the rain on the roof of the building and the scrape of a sharpening stone against a sword.

And, from time to time, wracked sobbing.

Sonic didn't seem like he noticed the last. He had eyes only for the blade and stone in his hands. The rest of the world might not have existed.

Amy hated him for that.

Scrape, scrape, scrape. It was inordinately grating when it was just the two of them in this borrowed building. Amy couldn't fit it into her head how he could do something like that at a time like this.

"How can you stand it?" she blubbered.

Sonic's hands stilled. He looked over to her. "Huh?"

"They're dead! Knuckles, and Rouge, and... and Shadow... they're all dead!"

Sonic nodded. "Yep."

Amy felt she ought to de-spine Sonic for that response. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Should it?"

"Yes! It should make you want to explode! It should make you want to slam your head into a wall! It should make you want to tear your heart out of your chest! It should..." Amy waved her arms, as if to say words alone did no justice to her level of upset. She'd lost her breath in the midst of her shouting.

Sonic asked her, "Is that how you feel? So full of pain you can't do anything about it?"

"Yes!" she keened. "It... it hurts like nothing I've ever felt before. And it won't stop. Nothing makes it better!"

"Is that why you tried to get the bandits to kill you?"

"I... huh?"

"You rushed out into the bandits all on your own."

At that, Amy had to steady herself. She sniffed noisily and dabbed at her eyes. "You mean... after Shadow... disappeared?"

"After... yes," Sonic said charitably.

Amy sniffed again. "I don't know quite what I was thinking," she said. "I was so... angry and sad... It was like a hole had been punched in me. I couldn't imagine anything hurting so much. God, it hurt!"

Sonic said nothing.

"What he did was so pointless," she added, with a bit of a sob. "I was coming to save him! But he still... he still died. It's not what I wanted. Not what I wanted at all! It wasn't right! We were... he and I..." She hesitated. "We were... close," she said tentatively.

Sonic merely nodded. Best to let her entertain her fictions for now.

"I wanted to... to live my life with him," she said. "I had all sorts of plans. And then... then... he was gone! And my whole future went with him. Everything I wanted, everything I had laid out for us to do... vanished in a moment. Like it was a dream. But no dream ever hurt like that. Nothing could ever hurt like that."

She sobbed again, but with a bit more control. "I wanted that life like I'd never wanted anything before. Nothing else mattered like that mattered. And when it... when the bandits took it... I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to... to maim and murder. I wanted them to feel what they'd done to me."

It was much as Sonic expected. He made no distraction.

"But it didn't help," she said, burying her face in her hands. "I... I killed them... but I nearly got you killed, too... And... I would have died... but I wasn't thinking like that. At least then the pain would go away..."

Sonic huffed. "I thought you sounded suicidal. It hurts that bad, huh?"

"Yes!" she screamed. "Shadow's dead! He meant everything to me! And... and it doesn't even bother you!"

"Should it?" asked Sonic. "Should I be weeping and wailing like you are? I don't see it."

"Of course not, because you don't give a damn! But _I_ cared, and this is how _I_ feel, and... and I'll cry if I want to!"

"It wouldn't do any good," Sonic said. "It's not helping you any."

"It's not about... I can't believe you! You're..." She shook her head. Her anger at Sonic seemed to burn away her tears. "You know, I was wrong before. I called Shadow cruel. But he wasn't. You're the cruel one."

"Shadow was cruel."

"Okay, fine, he was. But that's not all he was. He had so much more to him. So he may not have cared that his enemies died. He's still a better person than you, though, because you don't care when your friends die."

Sonic laughed at that. He picked up his sharpening stone again and began to run it against his sword. "You really think that about me?"

"Yes! And you're proving it right now!"

Scrape, scrape, scrape.

"If that's what you see," he said, after a moment.

"What?"

"I try to let my actions speak for me," he said. "What you see is what you get. Then again... I don't think you're seeing what's really happening here."

"I hate it when you talk down to me," she hissed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's not obvious, but this is how I show I care."

"How is sharpening a sword caring for a person?" she said acidly.

Scrape, scrape, scrape. "Amy, the other four warriors died to save the village. Oh, they had personal reasons for being here, too. Knuckles had his reasons, Rouge had hers, and the rest. I hope they got what they were looking for. I know Vector did. I think Shadow might have."

"Shadow didn't!" Amy said, and her voice approached a wail. "He was supposed to live!"

"That's what you wanted for him," Sonic said gently. "He wanted something different."

"What would you know?" she said viciously. "He and I were closer than you can imagine. You didn't know how he really he was. Only I did."

Sonic sighed. "I'm not going to argue about it, it's not the point. The point is that each of them died while fighting to save the village. So if we're going to make their deaths really mean something, we need to finish what they started. We need to see this through. We need to win."

"Death is meaningless," Amy lamented. "Don't try and make it okay. It's not okay! All their futures, all they would have done, all of it's gone."

"Yeah."

"And you're fine with that?!"

Sonic gave another couple of scrapes. "Ray was the first," he said.

"What?"

"Ray was the first person to die fighting by my side. He was a good friend. But we were fighting Eggman, and we got separated inside one of Eggman's operations. Ray ended up aboard a transport ship that was fleeing the area. He was in the cargo hold. It wasn't pressurized or heated. So when the ship got to high altitude..." he trailed off, letting Amy's head fill in the dreadful image on its own.

Amy shivered. "But... how do you know he died? How do you know he didn't escape?"

"Because Eggman found the corpse and used it to try and break me."

Sonic didn't elaborate. Amy didn't ask.

"It made me wonder," Sonic said. "What was I fighting for? I couldn't save everyone. I couldn't even save a close friend. Did Ray think about me, while he was up there freezing and gasping? It's a slow and lonely way to die. There's time enough for regret. Was he waiting for me to bail him out? I'd promised him I'd watch his back, and I didn't make good. Did he hate me for that? Did he spend his dieing moments cursing my name for abandoning him? That thought stuck with me for a while.

"Would he have rather I died in his place?

"Eventually I decided no. Ray wasn't that sort of person. He wasn't jealous like that. He wouldn't have wanted me to die just because he died. He would have been glad that one of us had lived."

"A lot of people have died following you, huh?"

"A few."

"So you get used to it?" Amy asked. "You get used to people around you dieing?"

"Sorta yes. And kinda no."

"You still messed up, didn't you? Maybe you're not supposed to get used to people dieing. If you get used to it, you stop trying to keep them alive."

Sonic snorted. "Is that what you see in me?"

Amy gritted her teeth. "No," she had to admit.

"Do I wish Ray was still alive? Of course I do. And Mighty and Knuckles and the rest of them. But I won't lose my present because I'm stuck in the past. If I got bogged down in all the things I've done wrong, I'd never be able to do right."

"That's just it," Amy sniffed. "You're still making mistakes. If you had stopped, Shadow would be alive now."

"And Kenji and Koji and the rest would be dead," he countered. "Who am I to compare the two?"

Amy struggled with this. "It's... so hard. It's not like you knew... What makes you think you know what's right?"

"Huh?"

"You know you've made mistakes, and that those mistakes have gotten people killed. How can you possibly move forward? What makes you think you'll be right next time? How do you know you won't be wrong again?"

Sonic grinned wryly. "Amy, it doesn't matter who's wrong and who's right. As long as the voice inside me says "go", I'll always keep on running. I'll go by my own sense of justice and the sound of the wind in my ears."

Amy shook her head incredulously. "Do you know how easy it would be to call you the bad guy? Or just totally irresponsible?"

"Yep," he replied. "So the question's the same as the day after we arrived here. Do you trust me to do my best? Do you trust me to try my hardest? Do you trust me to be the good guy? Place all your bets on the one you think is right."

He smiled at her, then. He smiled his guileless, comfortable smile. It made Amy want to rip his head off, or smother him with kisses.

Instead of doing either she wiped her eyes and said, "Damn you, Sonic Hedgehog."

He laughed. "I have that effect on people."

"It's not funny!" she protested. In vain. "You're not getting out of this until you tell me more."

"There isn't more. You're overcomplicating things. What you see is what you get- just a guy who loves adventure."

"But it's not an adventure! It's life and death!"

"Death sounds like an awfully big adventure. If that skinny ol' guy could catch me at all, heh."

"It's not just you, though," she protested. "It's also the people who die because of the choices you make."

"They made their choices, too."

"That's not true. Some of them did nothing at all."

"Doing nothing's a choice like any other. Anyway," he added, "sure, I've made mistakes. But I've done more good than bad. And I'll do more good in the future. I can learn. No u-turns. 'Cause I'm the hero, you know?"

Amy opened her mouth to accuse him of repeating himself. She stopped, because in a way, she was too. And the discussion just repeated the story of Sonic's life.

The only way to escape the disasters of the past was to push forward. Sonic lived in a tunnel, forever chasing the light at the end, no matter how deep the surrounding darkness became.

Scrape, scrape, scrape. Sonic lifted the sword and gazed down its length. His eyes searched for the slightest imperfection in the blade.

"If you're so sure you're the good guy," Amy asked, "why did you sound surprised when I called you a decent person?"

"When... oh, back in Akemo, you mean?" He frowned and began to scrape at the sword once more, focusing his efforts near a small chip. "Sure, I think I'm decent. But other people... the jury's still out. I've made some people awfully angry with some of the things I've done. So hearing someone else say I'm decent... I didn't expect it."

"But you think you were doing the right thing?"

"I think I tried my best to." He laughed at himself. "Even if I wasn't sure, I wouldn't change a thing about my life. What kind of person would I be today if I hadn't made those choices? I wouldn't be Sonic Hedgehog, that's for certain."

Amy pursed her lips. "So... why did you tell the peasants you'd never won a battle?"

Sonic inspected the chip in the blade again. "Well... maybe you'll know soon."

"No more soon!" Amy demanded. "You say 'what you see is what you get', but that's a lie! There's always more to you that you won't talk about, always another level of thought and planning going on."

"I don't lie," he said, with such conviction Amy faltered for a moment. She rebounded smartly.

"Oh yeah? Then why do you say you've never won? And what's this Knight of the Wind business? I know what a "knight" is. It's someone who pledges his sword and honor to a lord. You can't have that kind of relationship with air."

Sonic chuckled. "I'm not the one who came up with it," he said.

"But you embraced it, which is close enough."

"Yeah, I suppose. See, the first people who called me that were soldiers in the Eggman Wars. On an awful lot of battlefields where soldiers were being defeated by Eggman's robots, I would show up out of nowhere, break most of the robot pursuit, and let the soldiers get away safely. But I'd be gone almost before they knew I was there. They called me the Knight of the Wind because you can't see the wind, either. It just blows through and vanishes.

"To them, I was a force of nature. You couldn't ask for me to show up, or bargain for me to stay. I just came and went. That didn't stop people from trying, even though they knew it was pointless. You can't reason with the wind.

"It cracked me up at first. It took a while for it to sink in how true it was. You say I can't serve the wind. You're sort of right. But I do go where the wind takes me. I keep running because the wind keeps blowing. And I won't stop until the wind stills." He laughed at himself. "That gives me an awful lot to do, I guess."

Amy shook her head in confusion. "That's not really serving the wind, like a knight would. That's... I don't know, trying to commune with it? It's more like a... what do you call it... a shaman than a knight."

Sonic was smiling so much Amy was sure his cheeks had to hurt. "Yeah, but "Shaman of the Wind" sounds like crap. And what shaman ever used a sword?"

"How would I..." she trailed off.

"What?"

"I get it now," she said in neutral tones.

"Get what?" he said, thrown by the sudden change.

"You're not going to stay here once the bandits are killed, are you?"

Sonic shook his head. "That was never in the cards."

"You don't know where you're going next, do you?"

"Depends on the wind."

She closed her eyes. "So that's why," she said. "So that's why you turned me away. Because whatever happened to us in this village- whatever happened between us- at the end... you'd leave."

Sonic put down the sharpening stone again. He made a show of inspecting the blade, but his eyes weren't focused on it.

"That was the plan all along, wasn't it? To ditch me as soon as we were done here."

The rain filled the silence that followed. The steady drumming of it was oppressive in the close confines of the room.

"Sort of," Sonic said slowly. "I knew it was possible. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, to be honest. I knew I wasn't going to stay here, that was certain. And I couldn't guarantee we'd both survive this. So why set you up for disappointment? It wouldn't be fair to you."

Amy shook her head. "And you couldn't have explained that to me... why?"

"Would you have believed me?" Sonic said. "Would you have understood what I am? And would the possibility of either of us dieing even have crossed your mind?"

"Sure, it would have crossed my mind."

"Would you have taken it seriously?"

Amy ground her teeth. "I would have..." she pouted defensively, before murmuring, "...not."

"So I had my reasons," Sonic said. "They may have been dumb, or cowardly, or whatever. But I was trying my best to look out for you." He laughed at himself. "Listen to me! It's not like me to worry about what's coming ahead. I was so scared about messing you up that I fumbled what I was doing. Can you blame me? I just didn't want to get you hurt."

"I still got hurt," Amy said numbly.

"Not for lack of trying on my part."

"This is all too much," Amy said, holding her head. "Too much... emotion and confusion and... and I don't know, anymore, who I like and who I hate, and..."

She lay down on her back on her mat. She had both hands on her head as if to keep it from falling to pieces. She said nothing as Sonic finished preparing his new sword. She was preoccupied.

The door rustled. Tails stepped in, soaked to the bone, his fur plastered to his body. He shivered.

"It's done," he said. "We've finished repairing the fence."

"You're amazing, Tails," said Sonic, placing his sword at his hip. "They've got a fire going in the main hall. You'd better get over to it before you get the chills. I'm heading there myself."

"Sure thing." He headed out the way he'd come. Sonic followed.

"Sonic," said Amy. The blue hedgehog paused.

"Yes?"

"I really, really wish Shadow had lived."

"I know. Me too."

"But... I'm glad... you saved me. It couldn't have been easy."

He flashed his smile again. "It's what I do. And it's no fun if it's easy."

He walked out.

Amy's heart complained to her brain that life just wasn't fair.

* * *

><p>"It is pouring," Sonic said.<p>

"It's lighter now than it was, believe it or not," Tails replied.

"I'll believe it. What I can't believe is that you were out working in this. I couldn't stand it. I hate being wet."

"Is that why you never learned to swim?" Tails teased.

"Eh, it's part of it. But don't try to change the subject. Did you or did you not do an exceptional job repairing the fence under harsh conditions?"

Tails' tails twitched in what Sonic alone could recognize as embarrassment. "Well, I wouldn't call it 'exceptional'..."

"By your standards, you mean."

"Well, yeah."

"So by anyone else's standards, it's exceptional."

Tails couldn't fight off the smile. "I hate it when you do this!" he protested.

"Liar."

There was a buzz in the main hall before Sonic and Tails arrived. When they entered, almost no one noticed.

Sonic, curious, deposited Tails by the fire and made his way towards the focus of the crowd. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Sensei woke up!" a villager replied.

This Sonic had to see. He sidled into the closest ring of standing peasants.

Sensei's mat was pulled against the wall so he could sit up and support himself against it. Seiji was sitting against the same wall with his right leg sticking straight away from his body. Heavy bandaging obscured his knee. Sensei and Seiji were talking. Animatedly.

Sonic had never heard Seiji say so may things in one go. He gathered that no one else had, either.

Seiji noticed Sonic. "Sonic!" he said. "Get over here. Sensei never did see you properly. Sensei, this is the leader of the warriors. He's been helping to run things while you've been ill."

Sonic grinned. "What's shakin'?"

Sensei couldn't help but return Sonic's smile. "I understand we have a lot to thank you for," he said. "Seiji has had only good things to say about you."

Sonic shrugged without modesty. "What can I say? You lucked into the best."

"I daresay we did," sensei answered.

"The only thing that really gave me trouble was trying to get Seiji back here with that bum leg. He's a big dude."

Seiji nodded, un-offended. "They say I probably won't be able to walk on it again," he said. "The first arrow caught on the armor I was wearing, but the second went right through the knee."

"I was surprised we were able to find any armor that fit."

"I improvised a bit. Speaking of which, sensei, I was thinking about how we can convert some of the bandit weaponry into tools..."

And, like that, Sonic vanished from the conversation.

He didn't realize what had happened, at first. Part of him was intrigued about the prospect of Seiji talking so much. The rest of him kept expecting to reenter the discussion at some point.

It never happened. To Sonic's surprise, this made him more than happy.

He wandered back over towards the fire, where Tails and a few sopping peasants were basking in warmth. "Hey Tails, you see that?"

"Hm?" Tails opened his eyes blearily.

"Sorry, didn't realize you were so close to sleep. Anyway, you see what's going on over there?"

"Not really. There's a crowd in the way."

"Oh... right. Well, inside there, sensei and Seiji are holding court."

"Really? Seiji?"

"You bet! It's like that arrow to the knee unstuck his mouth. But what's really going on is the future."

"The future can't happen now, it's not here yet. That's what makes it the future. You've traveled through time once too often."

"Smart aleck. You know what I meant."

"Yeah," agreed Tails.

They watched for a few more moments.

"Did the rain stop?" asked Sonic.

"I think so."

Sonic reached into a pocket of his leathers and withdrew his gloves. Tails noticed.

"Where are you going, Sonic?"

"We're past the tipping point. Numbers are on our side, now. The bandits aren't able to draw this out any longer. They have to commit everything to battle. One more and this is over."

"So where are you going?"

"To tell the bandits, in case they didn't know."

Sonic left the building. He hadn't asked for help, and truth be told Tails was in no condition to offer it. He hoped Sonic didn't do anything reckless and stupid.

He buried his face in his palm.

* * *

><p>Amy's thoughts raced. The whole gamut of emotions coursed through her as she writhed in place.<p>

This was too much for a girl so passionate. Too much for someone whose emotions ran so close to the surface, and who gave them such free rein. They rolled through her one after another like so many thunderheads. Each fresh storm disturbed her anew.

In cold temperatures, warm-blooded creatures expend more calories than normal just to keep the body functioning. Amy was in a similar situation. Simply lying there as sensations rocked her took all her concentration and energy.

Eventually, sleep claimed her from sheer exhaustion.

* * *

><p>The bandit sentry wasn't supposed to have to deal with things like this.<p>

The camp was supposed to be secure. He was just supposed to have to stay awake, and wait for his relief. That was supposed to be enough. But nooo- that blue terror just had to step into the light of the bandit's torch.

The first thought that came to the bandit sentry was, "Couldn't he have done this on someone else's watch?"

And then all sense and reason left him. He reached for his sword.

"Nuh-uh," said Sonic, wagging a finger at the sentry. "You don't wanna do that."

The bandit froze insensibly.

Sonic said, "I want to talk to your boss. Blow your horn, will you?"

With fumbling fingers, the bandit pressed his hunting horn to his lips. Its sound was loud and harsh at this range, but Sonic didn't seem to care. "That's more like it," he said, and walked brazenly past the sentry.

The bandit camp was all astir. Sonic stopped a few paces from the first of their tents. "Yo, bandit leader dude! I've got a message for you."

One of the gathering shapes was much larger than the others. Sonic guessed he was the leader. It spoke- that confirmed it. "You've got a lot of nerve, pincushion," the leader snarled. His voice was grating and rough. If sandpaper could talk, the bandit leader's voice is what it would sound like.

"So what else is new? I'm here to tell you about the last battle." He paused for a moment to let them focus on him. The bandits were all awake now, and all- the sentry excepted- in front of him. Curiosity held them in place for the moment, but that wouldn't maintain forever.

The thrill of danger spiked in Sonic. It was why the grin never left his face.

"You'll attack two mornings from now, right at dawn," Sonic said. "That'll give you enough time to prep. See, we've got numbers, now, so we could come and attack you. But I'll give you the chance to attack us. So two mornings from now, come with everything you've got."

"Or else what?" laughed the leader. The bandits were starting to edge closer to Sonic.

"Or I'll hunt you down," Sonic said cheerfully. "I don't leave anything half-done. I'll pick you off one-by-one if I have to. You'll never escape me. You can't run far enough or hide well enough to get away."

"Cheeky punk," growled the bandit leader. "You think you can threaten us?"

Sonic laughed. "It's not a threat. It's just how it is. So what do you say, bandit man? One big fight, two mornings from now, winner take all. Deal?"

The bandits shuffled ever closer to Sonic. They began to creep around his sides, but slowly. They kept their cool exceptionally well. Their attempt to surround him was not obvious. The bandit leader sneered. "Deal... with the exception of tonight, of course."

"Of course," Sonic replied cheerily.

The bandit sentry began to draw his sword to complete Sonic's encirclement.

It was the sentry's last mistake.

Sonic took a single step backwards, taking him into range of the sentry, and turned. That allowed him to unleash a battoujutsu so perfect Shadow would have claimed it as his own.

Sonic had vanished into the trees before the sentry's body hit the ground.

* * *

><p>The last instructions were given. The walk-throughs were complete. The defense was ready.<p>

Amy was not.

The peasants retreated towards the main hall, chattering excitedly. Seiji watched them carefully with the aid of a makeshift crutch, and said a word or two to some of them as they passed. Each time, initial surprise quickly faded into acknowledgement and new respect.

Amy waited until they were all gone and Sonic stood alone at the bottom of the Alley.

"Sonic," she said, her voice wavering.

"Hm?" He turned towards her. The sight of him, and his eyes upon her, made her knees weak for a moment, and she almost couldn't bear to approach him. She gathered herself and, with effort, forged ahead.

"I want to apologize for earlier. I thought that you weren't feeling the pain of loss at all. I was wrong. You've been feeling it for years, haven't you? So you know how to deal with it, at least a little bit. I couldn't tell the difference. I'm sorry."

"Don't sweat it," he replied.

She bit her lip. "I need your help."

"How?"

"I'm not ready for this battle. I know," she added before he could speak, "I've fought before, and... killed before... but I'm having trouble. It's like every time I try to swing a weapon, I see Rouge's face, or Vector's, or Knuckles'. And I can't pull up Shadow's face at all."

Sonic nodded slowly. "It still hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she said. "And... and I thought, since you're so good at moving forward, maybe you could... help me. I was wrong about that, too, when I said I didn't need your help. I was proud and angry. It turns out I really could use a hand. If you're still offering," she finished stiffly.

"Course I am," Sonic replied, and Amy thought she might swoon from relief. "What did you have in mind?"

She'd kept her right hand discreetly behind her back. When she brought it forward, it revealed the sheath of a sword.

Sonic's eyes flicked down to it, then returned to Amy's face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered, with more confidence than she felt. "If Shadow could communicate with you like this, maybe I could."

"Don't get your hopes up," said Sonic. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. Shadow only did it that way 'cause he couldn't get there with words."

"I'll decide that for myself," Amy said.

"Are we going for points, or just sparring?" he asked.

"Whatever you think is best."

"Sparring, then."

He drew his sword and carefully set the blade against a nearby hut. He walked back with the sheathe alone. He settled into an unusual stance, just out of range. "Whenever you're ready," he said.

Amy frowned. His stance suggested an opening she might exploit, but with a twinge she remembered the last time he'd looked vulnerable. He'd been trying to teach her, then. Would that he had taught one of her other companions; they might have lived...

Amy's attention began to drift away. Sonic noticed this and stepped forward with a flourish of his sheath. Amy saw it and lashed out, attacking the opening he'd given her. He fended her off and slid around to the side. Amy was forced to reposition to face him again. This time he attacked her. It was slower than she'd expected. Her block got there in time, the only block that would have worked, the only block that made any sense to use. She struck back immediately, but by the time her sheath reached where his head should have been, he was gone.

She spotted him, grinning in typically self-satisfied fashion. His face was expectant. Amy didn't know how to respond. It seemed like he was waiting for her to say or do something. She knew not what. She kept all her attention focused on Sonic, for sooner or later he would move, and she had to be fully alert to catch it. No memory of her fallen comrades touched her mind.

Eventually he decided he hadn't seen what he was looking for, and attacked her.

Three times they clashed, then broke apart. Three times he waited for her between touches, expectant and patient. Three times she stared back at him, trying not to feel- or reveal- her bewilderment.

After the fourth touch, the barest hint of impatience crossed Sonic's face. He approached again. Amy recognized his stance as the same one he'd used the first time. Her response hadn't worked that first time, but she couldn't think of anything that might work better. She obligingly struck for him. He blocked exactly as he had the first time, but faster. Amy knew where his next motion was going to be. Yes, he slid around to her left, forcing her to move to keep him ahead of her. He attacked her again, such that only one block made sense. Without thinking she parried the attack and retaliated. Her sword missed his head, but only because he dodged away.

Missed his head?

Amy staggered as realization hither. "That was exercise number three," she said.

Sonic's face lit up when she said it. "Try this one!" he said eagerly. He attacked first. Amy recognized it from the block she would have to perform- exercise number four, of course. She flew through it, but this time instead of cleaving air she used it to beat Sonic back, faster than she'd thought she could swing.

Sonic didn't let her rest. He forced her quickly into exercises one and two. She responded beautifully. A lower, simpler part of her mind took control, a part that didn't care to dwell on the past.

What was that? Sonic made a move Amy couldn't recognize as part of any exercise. She stalled for half a heartbeat, then moved to block. When he made a second unexpected move, her tentativeness was gone. She briskly countered, forcing him to go defensive instead.

Just like that, Amy slipped out of the exercise routines and into high-speed sparring with one of the best swordsman she'd ever seen. The cracks of the sheaths rang off of the nearby huts. If Amy had tried to follow either of their weapons, she'd have lost track of the fight immediately. If she had tried to think about anything, even something about the fight, it would have so diluted her focus that the match would have ended instantly.

Instead she swung, and blocked, and stepped, at a speed and intensity that defied her highest expectations.

It couldn't last forever. Nothing ever does. The end came when she swung laterally, with force enough to carry her swing far to her right. Sonic knifed in. His response aimed for her shoulder, though as it approached her he had to draw back to avoid hitting her. Both of them retained their momentum. They collided, gently, and stuck, with Sonic's sheath pinned between them, the only thing separating them.

The weight of her exertion caught up with Amy. She hadn't even noticed she was out of breath until she stopped. She leaned into the sheath for support.

"You're awfully impressive," she said. "To think you reverse-engineered the exercises, then attacked in a way that would get me to go through them without knowing it... that's incredible."

"I know." It was hard to compliment Sonic more than he complimented himself.

"It worked," she said. "It worked just like the practice helped me overcome my jitters... that night. But part of it bothers me. Is overcoming grief just... forgetting?"

"No," said Sonic shaking his head. "Never forgetting."

"Then what?"

"Distance. It's about having a life so full that your sadness can't swamp it all. It's about knowing that sadness has a time and place, and that there are other things to do after."

"You sound like you've had plenty of experience with this."

"My share. So what?"

"You just seem so happy-go-lucky."

"It's not an act, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not fooling myself into being happy."

Amy chuckled. "What?" Sonic asked.

"When I first knew you, I thought to myself, 'He seems like he's lived as much as any two men.' I guess I was right. I just didn't expect it to be deliberate."

Sonic grinned. "If you're not living, what are you doing?"

Amy flushed. She looked away from him. She was suddenly aware of their intense closeness. It was as close as they'd been since Sonic had turned away her advances. "Even now, I know you're supporting me," she said. "To think I'll be losing you before long..."

Sonic didn't trust himself to speak.

She pushed herself away, held him at arm's length. "I can learn, too. And I respect you more than I did before. It's funny, isn't it? I've admired you, and honored you, and lusted for you, but only now do I respect you. I didn't understand the difference."

Still Sonic said nothing. Amy could see things she'd missed before and, for the first time, saw him not as a veteran soldier, or her instructor, or a mortal enemy. She saw him lady-'hog to gentle-'hog, and realized that this situation was every bit as difficult for him as it was for her.

"So... I understand... if the answer's still no. And when tomorrow comes, and we fight one last time, I'll be every bit the warrior you want me to be. No distractions... and no regrets."

Sonic swallowed. "That sounds good," he managed.

Amy felt them each back away from the precipice. The danger passed. Her hands returned to her sides. He stepped back, suddenly, as if breaking free from restraints. A dazed expression crossed his face.

"Bye," he said, and turned to leave.

"Sonic!" she called after him.

He looked back at her, confusion still in evidence.

"To everything there's a season," she said. "A time to every purpose under heaven. Even for you."

Sonic didn't say anything. He just ran.

Amy tipped her head backwards, closed her eyes, and laughed an empty laugh.

* * *

><p><em>Next time: The Fifth Robot<em>


	26. The Winner

It was an ambiguous dawn. Fog made assigning the time of sunrise an arbitrary task. The air was still, the wildlife was quiet. Time was passing, but it was hard to tell. It was as if the land itself was holding its breath.

Smoke rose from the direction of the bandit's camp. Its appearance fulfilled the first of Sonic's predictions.

There would be no retreating, this time. There would be only one more battle.

The last eight bandits emerged from the treeline. They were cautious at first, but there was no need. No sentries manned the posts along the fence. No wall of pikes barred the bottom of the Alley. Silence bore witness to the bandit approach.

Something orange flashed briefly into view above the fence. When that was gone, the world returned to stillness.

The bandits advanced warily down the Alley. In past days, the peasants had extracted sweat and blood from the bandits for every step. Now, nothing. Their footsteps reverberated in the enclosed space of the Alley. The clinking of their armor was clearly audible. Their breathing was unbearably loud. The bandit in front lost his nerve and looked backwards. The towering leader just grunted. The frontmost bandit got the hint. He started forward again.

The bandits cleared the Alley. This was as far as they'd ever gotten, so they stalled for a moment while they looked around.

A sharp whistle pierced the silence. The bandits brandished their weapons as fear gripped them.

From the bottom of the Alley, there were four possible exits into the rest of the village. Without sound, the peasants filled each of those gaps. They were barely recognizable as peasants. They wore sundry pieces of salvaged armor; many of the pikes had been upgraded with bandit steel; and their demeanor was that of a veteran army. They greatly outnumbered the eight bandits that remained.

The bandits knew how this would end. Fear's hold on them tightened. One of them panicked completely and ran for the Alley. A crossbow bolt caught him in the face. The other bandits hunkered down, searching for cover that didn't exist.

"Cowards!" bellowed the bandit leader. He elbowed his way to the front. He was a towering figure, a full head taller than the next tallest bandit. Every bit of him save his eyes was covered in gleaming armor. "You won't get anywhere just standing there! We've got to kill our way out! Follow me!" He charged directly at one of the groups of pikes.

The peasants felt fear, but they were familiar with the sensation by now. It gained no purchase in them. Instead they dug their heels in and steadied their pikes to receive the assault.

The leader's protection was perfect. Pikes glanced off of his form or were jolted from their owners' hands. The fear that the peasants had held at bay before came crashing down on them. They tumbled away like birds with clipped wings.

Before the leader could swing, a blur of pink vaulted the peasant line. Amy's mallet crashed into the leader's chest. The impact was so mighty it caused those close by to wince in pain from the sound. Amy's hands went numb at the shock.

Amy's follow-through slid from the leader's breastplate. He staggered back a single step before regaining his balance. Amy touched down unsteadily and looked up in surprise. That blow should have sent any human head over heels- but no, he wasn't human. At this close range she could see things she hadn't before, and now she could tell.

The leader was the fifth robot.

No, robot was the wrong term. That was definitely flesh on his face and hate in his eyes. Cyborg, that's what he was- easily confused for a robot if you were unfamiliar with either...

The leader kicked Amy in the ribs. The blow knocked her into the wall of a hut with a sickening thud. Amy's vision went black for a moment, and returned only slowly. She tried to breathe, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate. She flopped down onto her side. She grasped for her mallet and couldn't find it; she'd dropped it somewhere along the line. The bandit's shadow covered her. He was naught but a massive black shape blotting out her vision. Amy knew she could muster no defense against this juggernaut. She had to move away, but her legs obeyed her only feebly. She wasn't going to...

Down swung the bandit's sword.

There was a clang.

The leader's sword slashed into dirt. It had missed Amy by the smallest of margins.

Missed? No, deflected, by...

"Yo, bandit leader dude! I'd tell you to pick on someone your own size, but no one around here is your size. I guess you'll have to deal with me."

The leader didn't dominate Amy's vision any more. He'd backed off to confront Sonic. "What, so you can run away again, you yellow-belly? You talk a great fight, but all you're really good at is killing people who run away from you!"

"Then why don't you test that out? Guys, let him through. He and I will need some room to tango. If he wants to play, of course. What's it gonna be, leader dude? You and me, one on one? Or are you gonna hide behind the other bandits some more?"

"You miserable...!"

Amy felt the stomps rather than heard them. As she pulled herself together, she saw the peasants reforming the line to keep the bandits encircled.

It hurt to breathe. Amy was done fighting for today, but Sonic had planned for that. He'd wanted to fight the bandit leader alone, and he'd wanted the peasants to finish the other bandits on their own. Amy was only necessary until the leader could be isolated.

Amy glanced at the peasants. Looking at their faces, Amy imagined it was tombstones they carried rather than weapons. They were ready to bury the bandits, once and for all.

She turned to follow Sonic.

* * *

><p>The peasants closed in. They joined ranks in a circle around the bandits. It was loose at first, but rapidly became tighter and tighter. The bandits turned and scampered, looking for an opening, but none existed.<p>

In the years that followed, this was the moment that stuck in the peasants' memories. Each individual had their own memories of the war, but they all shared and clung to this one. For them, this moment was the one where they freed themselves from the bandits. And they did it all by themselves.

There was a bit of self-deception in that recollection. Sonic's duel with the bandit leader was glossed over, since no one saw it actually happen. And somehow, no one remembered the crossbow bolts that cut down a bandit that tried to flee up the Alley and kept two others from killing exposed peasants. What they remembered was surrounding the bandits and destroying them completely.

What they remembered was breaking free from fear for good. What they remembered was becoming an independent and proud village, and making it happen by the sweat of their brows and the work of their hands.

It was something worth remembering.

Just as Sonic had planned.

* * *

><p>Sonic checked the distance. He wanted to ensure the bandit leader wasn't tempted to double back and kill peasants. There... that did it. Sonic slid to a halt- and then had to tumble to the side as the leader roared past him.<p>

"Not bad," Sonic said as he dusted himself off. "You move pretty good for a big guy."

"This body is perfect," said the leader. "Its defenses are stronger than any weapon that exists these days. I don't age, I don't get sick- I'm functionally immortal!"

Sonic frowned disapprovingly. "Then why weren't you first leading the charge every time?"

"That's what minions are for," the leader replied.

"Nah, that's not what's really going on. You're scared, aren't you?"

"I'm not scared of anything! With this body, nothing can hurt me!"

Sonic shook his head. "It's the other way around. You know nothing can fix you, don't you? Any damage you take is permanent. So you're terrified to do anything that might hurt your body. You'll throw away your whole pack of bandits before you'll risk yourself."

"I don't need them, anyway," the leader scoffed. "They're just weaklings who rallied under my protection. As long as I'm alive I can always get more."

"Until you start to break down," Sonic pointed out. "No machine lasts forever. So those bandits who followed you out of fear- how much fear will they have when you can't move any more?"

"They'll do what they're told," growled the leader, but with more anger than conviction.

"You think so? No way." Sonic shook his head. "I actually respected Eggman, did you know? 'Cause he was willing to risk himself. He always had an escape route planned... but he still had guts enough to put himself on the line. You? You couldn't. You're a slave to your fear. That body's a prison. But don't worry. I'm here to set you free."

He drew his sword.

The bandit leader's reach was long and his sword was extra-large to match. With his strength, Sonic would be hard-pressed to do more than redirect it. Trying to block it completely was liable to shake him apart.

But he was still Sonic Hedgehog, and he didn't have to block what he could dodge.

The leader came at Sonic with blows that would have split open a horse. They made storms from the air and sucked up dirt and dust, and that was all. They cleaved the wind, but nothing solid.

Sonic danced backwards around the edge of a hut. The leader ducked inside. Sonic's sense of danger pegged high. He flitted away from the hut just as the leader crashed through the wall, sending debris and rubble flying. Sonic was already too far away for the bandit to complete the attack.

"That didn't suck," said Sonic, "but you've gotta do better to take me on."

The leader had enough self-discipline not to rise to the gibe, and instead attacked anew. Sonic occasionally used his sword to redirect the leader's blows over or around, but otherwise depended entirely upon his speed and agility to avoid the bandit's attacks.

His face was never without a smile.

"That's more like it!" he said.

"Don't think you're more than you are," said the leader. "You're a pitiful rurouni, a wanderer with no money, no purpose, and nothing but the clothes on his back. You're just one sword. What can you hope to accomplish?"

"Stop you, for starters."

"Stop me? Ha! Do you think there's any way those peasants can hurt me? Once you're dead, I can obliterate this place alone."

"And you'll have to, alone, since your buddies are dead now. Gotcha again!"

The leader snarled. "I told you already, I don't need them!"

"Yeah, and it was lame then, too. This rurouni has you beat."

The leader's face contorted in anger. He reached to his side to grasp a hut's rain barrel. He pulled, hoping to launch it at Sonic. It was too heavy, and his grip too strong. Wood splintered and the barrel tumbled, splashing water between the combatants. In the moment that vision was obscured, Sonic struck.

Sonic's katana clanged off of the bandit leader's armored carapace. Two more strikes made no impression against either of the bandit's arms. The leader stepped in to give Sonic a lethal bear hug, but Sonic was slippery enough to slither out of danger.

"It's useless," the leader said. "This was one of the last cyborg bodies made before things really fell apart. It's the pinnacle of technology. It can withstand a full-on blast from a tank's main gun."

Sonic dug into his ear to clean out some wax. "Yeah, but their ads forgot to mention that when they tried that stunt the soldier inside died from the concussion. Lemme guess—you didn't read the fine print."

"Cheeky blue bastard!"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're all buff. Shadow's the first guy in years who's given me a real run for my money. Don't want me getting bored, do you?"

"Ha! Is Shadow one of those pitiful creatures you had helping you? One of the ones we killed so easily?"

"You didn't kill him."

"He is dead!"

"Well, yeah, duh. But you didn't kill him. Shadow, Vector, Knuckles, Rouge—they chose the time and place of their deaths. Not everyone can say that. I wonder if I'll be able to say it when my time comes. I sure hope so." He raised his sword and pointed it at the bandit's face. "What about you, leader dude? Was your plan to die here?"

"I'll mutilate you!"

Sonic's eyes were filled with curiosity. "You think that you've got power over me! You still don't get it, do you? I'm the one who killed Eggman. What chance do you think _you've_ got?"

For the first time, hesitation crossed the leader's face. While he was still processing Sonic's words, the hedgehog took advantage. He dashed just past the bandit and twirled, hoping to slice open the leader's knees as he'd done to the Eggrobo.

The leader was no robot. He knew better than to try and block when his sword couldn't hope to get there in time, so he simply turned his leg towards Sonic. Instead of hitting the vulnerable inside of the knee, the katana clanged against the armored outside. The shock made Sonic wince. The leader kicked for Sonic as he'd done with Amy. When Sonic evaded it, the leader stepped down on Sonic's sword, tearing it from his grasp. A downward stroke sent Sonic scurrying out of range. When Sonic was safely away, the bandit snapped Sonic's katana.

Sonic sighed. "Another one? Sheesh, this has been a bad campaign for swords."

The bandit leader stepped forward. He seemed even larger than before. With Sonic's weapon destroyed, the leader radiated arrogance and invincibility. "Pitiful. To think you gave me so much trouble. I am your end, rurouni."

Sonic shrugged. "If saying it makes you feel better, go right on ahead."

"We'll see if you're so easy-going tonight, pincushion. That pink creature—you went to a lot of trouble to save her. She's valuable to you, isn't she? Yes, I can see it in your face! After I beat you, I won't finish you right away. I'll cripple you. Then I'll go and get that pink thing, and flay her while you watch. I'll make her scream for death. I'll make you wallow in your failure!"

Sonic huffed. "I'm not worried. Amy can take care of herself. Anyway, aren't you skipping ahead a bit? There's still the whole "beating me" part to take care of."

"Don't make me laugh." The bandit leader stood as tall as he could manage—tall enough that Vector would have looked average next to him. "You're already beaten."

Sonic's eyes weren't even looking at the leader. They were looking above him and to the left. "Don't do it, Tails."

"But I've got the shot!"

"Not with just one bolt you don't. Don't make yourself a target."

"And you," the bandit roared, "shouldn't lose your focus!" The bandit thundered after Sonic, unstoppable as a tsunami. His steps were so heavy and his swings so powerful that dust rose up around him, ever-so-slightly tarnishing the glint of his armor. Sonic made no attack of his own. He merely avoided the bandit's offensive. He refused to allow himself to be trapped or led. The leader's tactics couldn't contain a creature of Sonic's speed. Yet still Sonic didn't counter.

"I can keep this up forever, pincushion. If you make even a single mistake, I'll gut you."

"You don't know me very well."

"Taunt, taunt, taunt. Is that all you can do?"

"You started it."

"And I'll end it!"

The bandit leader readied his sword behind him. The next swing would be the most devastating yet. Sonic looked like he couldn't be bothered to care.

Amy could be. Her hands tightened around her mallet. "Sonic!" she called.

"Don't sweat it, Amy."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I'm really not! You're the best of us, Sonic! You were all along!"

"I know."

It was a glib reply, but Amy knew it was true. He really was the best of them. He had the best qualities of each of the warriors who had gathered in this nameless hamlet. He had Shadow's skill; Amy's passion; Vector's optimism; Knuckles' determination; Tails' cleverness; Rouge's…

Amy frowned. What quality of Rouge's did Sonic possess?

The leader swung. It was reckless and wild, a swing aimed at damage alone, with no thought to recovery or defense. Sonic didn't try to jump over it or retreat out of range. He dropped to an all-fours pose. The blade almost sucked him up into it as it passed over him; it may have nicked his quills.

At that moment, Amy knew how this was going to end—and knew the qualities of Rouge's that Sonic possessed.

Off-balance, unsteady, but determined to punish the upstart hedgehog, the bandit swung again, swung downward to split Sonic along his spine. Sonic did a shoulder-roll away from the blade's path. It dug into the dirt, and now the bandit was stuck, stooped over, with his face closer to Sonic's level. Right where Sonic had wanted him to be.

Sonic rose from his sprinter's stance, his whole body extended in a single lunge, taut from toes to fingertips. Glittering in his outstretched hand was a dagger he hadn't even been holding. The bandit's suddenly fear-filled eyes focused on the point of the dagger as it drew ever close to the bandit's face in a moment that seemed to stretch out for minutes.

And Amy noticed one more detail she hadn't seen the first time.

Sonic was smiling.

* * *

><p>Snow was falling.<p>

The first snow of the year had come without warning, and early, but not terribly so. The villagers didn't seem to notice. They were beating on drums and ringing bells that had nothing to do with violence.

Sensei and Seiji had had Ichiro check how much rice the peasants had saved by fighting the bandits, and were using some of it liberally. They had a schedule of festivals and events planned to celebrate the victory. It ended at planting season. At that point, after all, everyone would be needed to tend the new crops, and there would be no more time for wanton self-indulgence.

The villagers were dancing and clapping and singing, the sake was flowing, the music was booming, and the snowfall did nothing to dampen the villagers' spirits. It almost seemed like a finishing touch to make the party special. It was a gentle snowfall that melted immediately on the ground, and so added to the atmosphere without overly inconveniencing the peasants.

It all seemed so far away to Amy.

She was just across the road from the Alley, at the treeline the bandits had hugged so often. From here, the village might as well have been on the other side of a mountain. She heard the music only dimly, and the singing as no more than a buzz. It was just as well. She had no right to be there. It was the peasants' celebration. She was a warrior. The agreement didn't entitle her to participate. It only guaranteed her three meals of rice a day and a roof over her head. Oh, and the peasants' eternal gratitude.

She smiled thinly at the last.

She walked along the road until she was across from the corner of the fence. Sonic didn't hear her coming. He was standing off the road, un-self-conscious as he always was. His eyes never wavered. His hands were bare despite the cold.

"Morning, Sonic," Amy said mildly.

He nodded without turning. "Morning, Amy."

She sidled up next to him and followed his eyes. At the foot of a tree was a large, round stone. In front of it were four objects.

A kitchen knife.

A blackened, charred lump with a shard of metal protruding from it.

A long, gauntlet-like glove.

A disc with an incomprehensible pattern of small green stones.

"I'm surprised you were able to find that," said Amy, pointing at the lump. "I didn't think there'd be anything left."

Sonic didn't respond.

"It won't last," said Amy, surprised at her own insight. "No one will come by to take care of this place. The metal will rust and the wood will rot. The glove will be soiled and frayed, and a magpie will use the disc to feather its nest. The peasants will say they'll always remember us, but they won't. We'll be characters in a story, something they tell at festival time, but we won't be real to them. We won't be people anymore—just names. Someone might come over here, just for nostalgia… once. No more after that. We won't be important. Soon they'll forget this grave is here. In a few years, they'll even forget our names."

"Did you fight so they'd remember you?"

"Of course not." She said it as if it was obvious, but her tone belied her words.

"Neither did I."

Amy blinked as she puzzled over his response. "You didn't even tell them you were making this, did you?"

"I didn't make it for them."

Amy waited for him to say something more, to explain himself, but he didn't. He just stared. She peered in. No, he wasn't even staring at the grave. His eyes were unfocused. What he was staring at, she couldn't tell.

"Hey, Sonic!"

Sonic and Amy looked to the end of the Alley, where Tails was emerging. The fox jogged over towards them. "Just finished chatting with sensei," he said. "I was giving them pointers on how to sell off the scrap slowly, to avoid drawing attention. But that's pretty much the last thing. I already gave them advice on how to maintain the fence."

Sonic nodded. "Yeah, I told them more about how to care for the weapons and stuff."

Tails frowned. "Think they'll actually follow our advice?"

Amy looked at the village. Visions swept through her head—visions of the village. In one, the peasants had uprooted the fenceposts and used them to build up the village until it was almost a city. In another, the fenceposts stayed, and the village was secure always. In another, the fence decayed, and a new group of bandits killed everyone and razed the place. And in yet another, the fence and village stayed, but there were no people—famine, or plague, or flood, or some other thing, who knew…

Who could say what the future held? How could a person predict what a community of strangers might do years in the future?

"Maybe," said Sonic.

He and Tails shared a look. Amy recognized what passed between the two—the common understanding of what she had just seen. They had their own visions of the possibilities. They shared their appreciation instantly, through common thinking.

"Maybe," Tails agreed.

"So, heading back to the Lava Reef, then?"

Tails' face lit up. "Yep, I was just about to hit the road."

"Have fun with that."

"I'll think about what you told me."

"You do that. Give Cream a kiss from me."

"Will do," said Tails, and his face was lost in its own dream for a moment. Then he frowned suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sonic laughed. "I think you know. We still on for two years from now?"

"Yeah," said Tails. "We're still on. Well… probably."

"You're my friend and old wife, no matter what you decide."

"That means everything to me, Sonic. And you're my true friend, always. Drop by anytime."

"I'll have to do that. Now scoot!"

Tails grinned, hefted his backpack, and set off along the path. His feet moved quickly, but no one who kept pace with Sonic had a normal conception of what running was fast. Certainly no companion of Sonic's would run slowly when running quickly was an option.

It wasn't long before Tails disappeared into the distance and the snow. Sonic and Amy were alone again, with only the distant-seeming music of the village penetrating the blanket of winter.

"Sonic?" Amy asked tentatively, as if she were sorry for breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

"When you were fighting the bandit leader, you said a lot of things. How much of it was true, and how much was just bravado? Just words designed to get him where you wanted?"

"Why can't it be both?"

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"That's true."

Amy gave up. Sonic swore he never lied, but Amy suspected that was because he'd learned how to not answer questions he didn't want to. "Well, one thing's over, for sure," she said. "You can't say you've never won a battle anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"We won. So you've won a battle now."

Sonic shook his head. "We didn't win." He looked towards the village and jerked his head. "They won."

Amy's jaw dropped, then reformed in a weak smile. "You really are the Knight of the Wind, aren't you?"

He matched her expression. "You know me."

Her gaze dropped. She still had trouble meeting his eyes when he was smiling. It was just too much. She shivered. It had nothing to do with the temperature. "So… are you going to chase the wind some more, then?"

"No point in staying." He looked back to the gravestone for a moment, more to not look at her than to look at anything in particular. He took a deep breath. "Wanna come with me?"

"What?"

"Wanna come with me?" he repeated. "There's wind enough for two."

The snow was melting instantly on the ground, but small amounts were accumulating on the disc and the stone. The two hedgehogs watched it build up, ever so slightly, knowing it would be gone the next morning.

"Thanks… but no."

"Oh?"

"I've stretched my wings for the first time. I'd like to see where they can take me."

Sonic nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "You'll need this."

He pulled a sword from his belt and extended it towards her. She knew by now not to think of it as his sword. She grasped it, then stopped. "This is the sword you tried to give me when I lost my training sword," she said.

"I'm surprised you recognize it."

"Me too. Now that I think about it, you could have used this yourself, when I broke your katana. But you chose to prepare a new one instead. You were saving this for me, just in case I needed it."

"I guess in my head I already thought of it as yours."

She took it from him this time. She tucked it into her sash, then drew the blade. Without thinking about it she slipped into routine three. The katana danced in her hands. She felt her pulse in her fingers. Even though she knew what was happening, she couldn't help but believe that she was feeling the pulse of the sword itself, that the sword's heart was beating in time with hers.

"It's magnificent," she said. She re-sheathed it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"If we…" she began, then cut herself off as she reconsidered. After a moment, she decided to go through with it. "If our paths cross again, I'll definitely consider going with you."

"To everything there's a season," Sonic said to her.

She couldn't help but smile. "And a time for every purpose under heaven," she answered.

"Even yours."

"Even mine."

They stood there for a moment, until Amy realized it was her move to make. She turned away, facing down the road. "So long, Sonic Hedgehog."

"So long, Amy Rose."

Sonic waited until he was sure she was moving away before he looked after her. He watched her walk away from him. Her gait was steady and untroubled. She didn't look back. She didn't let her gaze wander to the village. She looked down the road, where she was going, without evident worry or regret.

It made Sonic happy to watch her. Then she, too, was gone.

Sonic sighed. He looked to the grave again, for another long moment. "Sayonara," he said at last. He tucked a new sword into his belt and, with one final backward glance, headed off into the trees. Following the road would have been easier, but he was never one to do things the easy way, and roads would never take him all the places he wanted to go.

Soon Sonic was out of sight of any living thing. You could have followed him, though, by the sound. He was humming, loudly, a tune of his own devising. He used song for the end of each chorus.

"...Na na-a naa… I'm the Kniii-i-i-iiight of the Wind…"

* * *

><p><em>Fin<em>


	27. Epilogue

_Author's discussion._

_I normally post my thoughts and feelings about my stories on my profile. I can't really do that in this case because of the massive spoilers involved, so I'll use this space instead._

_I actually know some people named Kenji, Koji, and Seiji. They're brothers. I didn't base the characters off of them. In fact, Kenji and Koji's closest parallels are from another Kurosawa film, "The Hidden Fortress" (widely cited as the basis for "Star Wars")._

_Using Vector in the role of the would-be warrior is, I'll admit, a bit of a stretch. In the games, Vector is quite competent in his own fields (mostly just being really strong). I tried to preserve that by making him an unarmed detective before the Eggman Wars, but I wasn't completely happy with it. In terms of character, the closest that makes sense is Big the Cat. However, I didn't want to use Big the Cat, for three reasons._

_1. 70% of Big's dialogue consists of, "Froggy!"_

_2. Big has the approximate I.Q. of chopped celery._

_3. I hate Big the Cat._

_I could work with 1, and maybe 3, but 2 was the big stumbling block. You can't play SA1 or Sonic Heroes and not come to the conclusion that Big is clinically retarded. I didn't want to write a story where a retarded critter gets picked on and killed. So Big was off-limits. Vector filled in._

_Other than that, the characterizations practically wrote themselves. Tails as the devotee, Amy as the aspirant, Rouge as the mercenary suffering an attack of conscience, Shadow as the apostle of pure skill, Knuckles as the pride-less penitent, all of it flowed very naturally. Sonic was hardest of them all, if you believe that. The big problem is that the role Sonic is filling—the veteran master of war—has a lot of components in him that the Sonic in the games just wouldn't have. The patience, expertise, and leadership the Sonic role has to have aren't things he comes with naturally. That's why I had to put so much effort into emphasizing how long Sonic's been fighting. The fifteen year gap does more than let the world fall apart to the point where swords are the preferred weapon. It also gives Sonic enough history to have developed what he needs to make the story work._

_Note, also, that SatAM Sonic couldn't work in this way. In SatAM, all those characteristics I mentioned above belong exclusively to Sally. The main character in a "Seven Samurai"-type story is both captain and champion. SatAM Sonic is champion, while Sally is captain. This isn't a criticism, in fact their dynamic is what makes SatAM so appealing; I'm just pointing out how different characterizations make or break stories of different types. (The other reason I didn't use SatAM is because I'm far too sentimental about those characters to casually kill them off as this story demands.)_

_I hadn't intended the ShadAmy angle to become as prominent as it did. Even after it did, however, I was never tempted to list the pairing in the story description. It would have misled readers both about the type of story this is and about the nature of the relationship. I'm not a ShadAmy shipper; the pairing doesn't really make sense to me in and of itself. In reality, aspects of Amy's relationship with Shadow were an outgrowth of, and dependent upon, her relationship with Sonic. Amy and Shadow could potentially be friends without Sonic. But only when Amy was reacting against Sonic could she and Shadow be lovers, even for a brief time. This is reflected in no small part by her domineering role in their relationship._

_My favorite scene is the introduction of Tails. That was a lot of fun to write, and I tickled myself by writing parts of it ambiguously. In a way, I suppose it had to be a good scene. Tails' character is static. Sonic is, too, but Sonic gets fleshed out more, and over time, so he feels more dynamic than he actually is. Tails, in contrast, is pretty firmly rooted right from the beginning, so his introduction is the most important of his scenes._

_I free-lanced pretty heavily when it came to Tikal. Strictly speaking she's not essential to the story; it could've worked without her. But I was happy to get her in there. Some might balk that her character is a scientist here when in SA1 she was a sort of a hippy. For me, the two essential elements of her character were 1) her closeness to the Chaos Emeralds, and 2) her role as peacemaker. (The website OC-Remix has an outstanding remix of her theme from SA1 entitled "The Peacemaker" that helped sell the point for me.) I retained those, and made the rest fit, and was pretty happy with the result._

_I had the most fun writing for Rouge, as I always do. In an otherwise very sterile Sega-verse, she's a standout for her amoral nature, her predatory predilections, and her overt sexuality. A lot of people botch that last part. They take it to mean she's a slut. She's not. She uses sex; sex doesn't use her. That said, it's fun to turn up the saucy from time to time, and Rouge always gets my best lines. Indeed, her final scene was one of the first to come to me when I was planning this story, and it was one of the things that motivated me to write it at all._

_I felt that I owed Knuckles. My biggest personal complaint about my previous story "Hunter's Honor", a bit of Knouge shipping, is that too often I used Knuckles simply as Rouge's foil. I felt that I underutilized Knuckles in his own right, that I didn't give him enough to do to be Knuckles, and that the story was really about Rouge guest-starring Knuckles. So I wanted to be sure to make it up to him, and I lavished attention on him. Come to think of it, this was probably unjustified, as I gave Knuckles (albeit an alternate universe Knuckles) a story all to himself in "Conscience of Echidnas". Still, I was conscious of the possibility that Knuckles might become, again, nothing more than Rouge's foil. I had to make sure Knuckles got his share of the limelight._

_And that was the hardest part of all when writing this story. The challenge of ensemble-based stories is making sure everyone gets their time while still keeping the plot moving forward. It's much easier when you have 2-3 major characters, a few minors, and a handful of bit players. In contrast, any two of the seven major characters can carry a story by themselves, with supporting roles filling out the roster. The result is more of a juggling act than I'd thought it would be. Even now. I've mentioned most of the characters, but I really don't have a lot to say about the others, yet that is what symmetry would demand._

_I snuck in a fair number of music references. I may be the only Sonic fanfic writer to quote the Book of Leviticus (hint: byrds). Most of them, however, are songs from Sonic games. Most obvious is "Knight of the Wind", but there are snippets from many other Sonic songs: "Fly in the Freedom", "His World", "Supporting Me", "This Machine", to name a few. I wanted really badly to work "Endless Possibilities" into Sonic and Amy's last scene, but it just wasn't right for it, so I let it go, regretfully._

_In fact, the genesis of this whole project was (perhaps unsurprisingly) hearing the song "Knight of the Wind" for the first time, with associated AMV (as I didn't have a Wii I was unaware of the game "Sonic and the Black Knight" until that moment). It was a great song, but a couple things bothered me. Amongst them was the characters' weapons loadouts. For example, Sega had Knuckles dual-wielding short swords. It was all wrong. From Knuckles' first appearance one of his selling points was always strength, and if you're really strong, historically you used a large two-handed weapon to maximize the damage of each swing. For that matter, the sword that Sonic uses in that game is a large long sword—too large for him to wield quickly. It may be closer to the age of knights in terms of design, but a katana is a better fit for Sonic—smaller, easier to wield, better suited to the slashing attacks that would be Sonic's bread and butter. Shadow's sword in that game is a ridiculously impractical barbed monstrosity. I can imagine someone at the design meeting saying, "our physics are all make-believe anyway, so make it a sword, but eviler!" And Blaze uses a rapier, a fine weapon in isolation that's not so fine if everyone's in plate mail. I thought to myself, "I can match weapons to characters better than that!" And before I knew it, the story was on._

_I mentioned Blaze just now. I didn't include Blaze in this story. Simply put, I haven't played enough games with Blaze in them to have a handle on her character, so I didn't feel like I could do her justice, even in a bit role._

_I have a few other projects I'm working on, so I think I'll be able to sustain an every-Monday posting schedule for another month or so. Next in the lineup is "Forward Unto Dawn", a SatAM prequel, and somewhere in there I'll sneak in "High School Sonic High School", a parody. In the distant future I have planned "1 A.R.", a SatAM romance; we'll see if I can sustain my current pace of writing that long. _

_Thanks to everyone who read this story in its entirety. At over 300 pages, it was a bit daunting, I'm sure. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it—it was a lot of fun. If you want to ask me a question, feel free to send me a message, or just use the review feature. Again, thanks for reading, and good night._


End file.
